The  Works  of  Charles  Dickens 

In  Thirty-four  Volumes. 

WITH  INTRODUCTIONS,  GENERAL  ESSAY,  AND  NOTES 
BY  ANDREW  LANG. 

VOL.    II. 


THE    PICKWICK    PAPERS. 

VOL.    II. 


Printed  from  the  Edition  that  was  carefully  corrected  ly  the  Author 
in  1867  and  1868. 


The 


Posthumous  Papers 

OF 

THE  PICKWICK  CLUB 


By  CHARLES   DICKENS 


WITH    INTRODUCTION    AND    NOTES 

BY 

ANDREW   LANG 


In  Two  Volumes.     Vol.    II. 

WITH    THE    ORIGINAL    ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW    YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1898 


Stack 
Annex 


fie 


CONTENTS    OF    VOL.    II. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 

PACK 

How  the  Pickwickians  made  and  cultivated  the  Acquaintance  of  a 
couple  of  nice  Young  Men  belonging  to  one  of  the  Liberal  Pro- 
fessions ;  how  they  disported  themselves  on  the  Ice  ;  and  how 
their  first  Visit  came  to  a  conclusion  1 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Which   is   all   about   the   Law,    and    sundry    Great  Authorities 

learned  therein 15 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Describes,  far  more  fully  than  the  Court  Newsman  ever  did,  a 
Bachelor's  Party  given  by  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  at  his  Lodgings 
in  the  Borough 34 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Mr.  Weller  the  elder  delivers  some  Critical  Sentiments  respecting 
Literary  Composition  ;  and,  assisted  by  his  son  Samuel,  pays 
a  small  Instalment  of  Retaliation  to  the  account  of  the 
Reverend  Gentleman  with  the  Red  Nose  ....  51 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Is  wholly  devoted  to  a  full  and  faithful  Report  of  the  memorable 

Trial  of  Bardell  against  Pickwick 71 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

PAGE 

In  which  Mr.  Pickwick  thinks  he  had  better  go  to  Bath  ;  and  goes 

accordingly      ..........     100 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

The  chief  features  of  which,  will  be  found  to  be  an  authentic 
Version  of  the  Legend  of  Prince  Bladud,  and  a  most  extra- 
ordinary Calamity  that  befell  Mr.  Winkle  .  .  .  .119 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Honourably  accounts  for  Mr.  Weller's  Absence,  by  describing  a 
Soiree  to  which  he  was  invited,  and  went ;  also  relates  how 
he  was  entrusted  by  Mr.  Pickwick  with  a  Private  Mission  of 
Delicacy  and  Importance 133 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

How  Mr.  Winkle,  when  he  stepped  out  of  the  Frying-pan,  walked 

gently  and  comfortably  into  the  Fire      .....     149 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Mr.  Samuel  Weller,  being  entrusted  with  a  Mission  of  Love,  pro- 
ceeds to  execute  it ;  with  what  success  will  hereinafter  appear  166 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Introduces  Mr.  Pickwick  to  a  new,  and  not  uninteresting  Scene, 

in  the  great  Drama  of  Life      .......     185 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

What  befell  Mr.  Pickwick  when  he  got  into  the  Fleet ;  what 

Prisoners  he  saw  there  ;  and  how  he  passed  the  Night    .         .     200 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

Illustrative,  like  the  preceding  one,  of  the  old  Proverb  that  Ad- 
versity brings  a  Man  acquainted  with  strange  Bed-fellows. 
Likewise  containing  Mr.  Pickwick's  extraordinary  and  start- 
ling announcement  to  Mr.  Samuel  Weller  ....  216 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER  XLTII. 

PACE 

Showing  how  Mr.  Samuel  Weller  got  into  Difficulties    .        .        .     234 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Treats  of  divers  little  Matters  which  occurred  in  the  Fleet,  and  of 
Mr.  Winkle's  mysterious  Behaviour  ;  and  shows  how  the  poor 
Chancery  Prisoner  obtained  his  Release  at  last  .  .  .  250 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

Descriptive  of  an  Affecting  Interview  between  Mr.  Samuel  Weller 
and  a  Family  Party.  Mr.  Pickwick  makes  a  Tour  of  the 
diminutive  World  he  inhabits,  and  resolves  to  mix  with  it,  in 
future,  as  little  as  possible  .......  267 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Records  a  touching  Act  of  delicate  Feeling,  not  unmixed  with 
Pleasantry,  achieved  and  performed  by  Messrs.  Dodson  and 

.         .         .288 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 

Is  chiefly  devoted  to  Matters  of  Business,  and  the  temporal  Ad- 
vantage of  Dodson  and  Fogg.  Mr.  Winkle  re-appears  under 
extraordinary  circumstances.  Mr.  Pickwick's  Benevolence 
proves  stronger  than  his  Obstinacy 301 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Relates  how  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  the  assistance  of  Samuel  Weller, 
essayed  to  soften  the  heart  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  and  to 
mollify  the  wrath  of  Mr.  Robert  Sawyer  .  .  .  .316 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

Containing  the  Story  of  the  Bagman's  Uncle          ....     332 

CHAPTER  L. 

How  Mr.  Pickwick  sped  upon  his  Mission,  and  how  he  was  re- 
inforced, in  the  Outset,  by  a  most  unexpected  Auxiliary  .  353 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   LI. 

PAGE 

In  which  Mr.  Pickwick  encounters  an  old  Acquaintance.  To 
which  fortunate  circumstance  the  Reader  is  mainly  indebted 
for  matter  of  thrilling  interest  herein  set  down,  concerning 
two  great  Public  Men  of  might  and  power  .  .  .  .371 

CHAPTER  LII. 

Involving  a  serious  Change  in  the  Weller  Family,  and  the  untimely 

Downfall  of  the  red-nosed  Mr.  Stiggins 389 

CHAPTER  LIII. 

Comprising  the  final  Exit  of  Mr.  Jingle  and  Job  Trotter ;  with  a 
Great  Morning  of  Business  in  Gray's  Inn  Square.  Concluding 
with  a  Double  Knock  at  Mr.  Perker's  door  ....  404 

CHAPTER  UV. 

Containing  some  Particulars  relative  to  the  Double  Knock,  and 
other  Matters,  among  which  certain  Interesting  Disclosures 
relative  to  Mr.  Snodgrass  and  a  Young  Lady  are  by  no  means 
irrelevant  to  this  History 420 

CHAPTER  LV. 

Mr.  Solomon  Pell,  assisted  by  a  Select  Committee  of  Coachmen, 

arranges  the  Affairs  of  the  elder  Mr.  Weller          .         .         .439 

CHAPTER  LVI. 

An  important  Conference  takes  place  between  Mr.  Pickwick  and 
Samuel  Weller,  at  which  his  Parent  assists.  An  old  Gentle- 
man in  a  snuff-coloured  Suit  arrives  unexpectedly  .  .  .  454 

CHAPTER  LVI  I. 

In  which  the  Pickwick  Club  is  finally  dissolved,  and  everything 

concluded  to  the  satisfaction  of  everybody      ....     469 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

VOL.   II. 


PAGE 

MR.  PICKWICK  SLIDES Frontispiece 

THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  WITH  MR.  SERJEANT  SNUBBIN        .        .  29 

THE  VALENTINE 56 

THE  TRIAL .81 

THE  CARD-ROOM  AT  BATH 117 

MR.  WINKLE'S  SITUATION  WHEN  THE  DOOR  "  BLEW  TO  "    .        .  131 

CONVIVIALITY  AT  BOB  SAWYER'S 158 

MR.  PICKWICK  SITS  FOR  HIS  PORTRAIT 198 

THE  WARDEN'S  ROOM 208 

DISCOVERY  OP  JINGLE  IN  THE  FLEET 228 

THE  RED-NOSED  MAN  DISCOTJRSETH 276 

MRS.  BARDELL  ENCOUNTERS  MR.  PICKWICK  IN  THE  PRISON       .  299 

MR.  WINKLE  RETURNS  UNDER  EXTRAORDINARY  CIRCUMSTANCES  309 

THE  GHOSTLY  PASSENGERS  IN  THE  GHOST  OF  A  MAIL         .        .  341 

MR.  BOB  SAWYER'S  MODE  OF  TRAVELLING 357 

THE  RIVAL  EDITORS 385 

MARY  AND  THE  FAT  BOY 429 

WELLE  B  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  DRINKING  TO  MR.  PELL    .        .        .  447 


POSTHUMOUS    PAPERS 

OF 

THE   PICKWICK    CLUB. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

HOW  THE  PICKWICKIANS  MADE  AND  CULTIVATED  THE  ACQUAINT- 
ANCE OF  A  COUPLE  OF  NICE  YOUNG  MEN  BELONGING  TO  ONE 
OF  THE  LIBERAL  PROFESSIONS  ;  HOW  THEY  DISPORTED  THEM- 
SELVES ON  THE  ICE;  AND  HOW  THEIR  FIRST  VISIT  CAME  TO 
A  CONCLUSION. 

"  WELL,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  as  that  favoured  servitor 
entered  his  bed-chamber  with  his  warm  water,  on  the  morning 
of  Christmas  Day,  "  Still  frosty  ?" 

"Water  in  the  wash-hand  basin's  a  mask  o1  ice,  sir,"  re- 
sponded Sam. 

"  Severe  weather,  Sam,"  observed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Fine  time  for  them  as  is  well  wropped  up,  as  the  Polar 
Bear  said  to  himself,  ven  he  was  practising  his  skating,"  replied 
Mr.  Weller. 

"  I  shall  be  down  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Sam,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  untying  his  nightcap. 

"Wery  good,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "There's  a  couple  o' 
Sawbones  down  stairs." 

"  A  couple  of  what ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  sitting  up 
in  bed. 

"A  couple  o1  Sawbones,"  said  Sam, 

VOL.  ii.  B 


2  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"What's  a  Sawbones?""  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  not  quite 
certain  whether  it  was  a  live  animal,  or  something  to  eat. 

"  What !  Don't  you  know  what  a  Sawbones  is,  sir  ? " 
inquired  Mr.  Weller.  "I  thought  everybody  know'd  as  a 
Sawbones  was  a  Surgeon.* 

"Oh,  a  Surgeon,  eh?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a  smile. 

"Just  that,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "These  here  ones  as  is 
below,  though,  aint  regular  thorough-bred  Sawbones ;  they're 
only  in  trainin'." 

"  In  other  words  they're  Medical  Students,  I  suppose  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

Sam  Weller  nodded  assent. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  casting  his  nightcap 
energetically  on  the  counterpane,  "  They  are  fine  fellows ; 
very  fine  fellows.;  with  judgments  matured  by  observation 
and  reflection ;  tastes  refined  by  reading  and  study.  I  am 
very  glad  of  it." 

"  They're  a  smokin*  cigars  by  the  kitchen  fire,"  said  Sam. 

"  Ah  ! "  observed  Mr.  Pickwick,  rubbing  his  hands,  "  over- 
flowing with  kindly  feelings  and  animal  spirits.  Just  what 
I  like  to  see." 

"And  one  on  'em,"  said  Sam,  not  noticing  his  master's 
interruption,  uone  on  'em's  got  his  legs  on  the  table,  and  is 
a  drinkin'  brandy  neat,  vile  the  tother  one — him  in  the 
barnacles— has  got  a  barrel  o'  oysters  atween  his  knees,  wich 
he's  a  openin'  like  steam,  and  as  fast  as  he  eats  'em,  he  takes 
a  aim  vith  the  shells  at  young  dropsy,  who's  a  sittin'  down 
fast  asleep,  in  the  chimbley  corner." 

"  Eccentricities  of  genius,  Sam,'1  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  You 
may  retire." 

Sam  did  retire  accordingly  ;  Mr.  Pickwick,  at  the  expiration 
of  the  quarter  of  an  hour,  went  down  to  breakfast. 

"Here  he  is  at  last!"  said  old  Mr.  Wardle.  "Pickwick, 
this  is  Miss  Allen's  brother,  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen.  Ben  we 
call  him,  and  So  may  you  if  you  like.  This  gentleman  is  his 
very  particular  friend,  Mr.  —I—1* 


MR.  BOB  SAWYER.  3 

"  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,"  interposed  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  ;  where- 
upon Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  and  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  laughed  in 
concert. 

Mr.  Pickwick  bowed  to  Bob  Sawyer,  and  Bob  Sawyer  bowed 
to  Mr.  Pickwick;  Bob  and  his  very  particular  friend  then 
applied  themselves  most  assiduously  to  the  eatables  before 
them ;  and  Mr.  Pickwick  had  an  opportunity  of  glancing  at 
them  both. 

^Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  was  a  coarse,  stout,  thick-set  young 
man,  with  black  hair  cut  rather  short,  and  a  white  face  cut 
rather  long.  He  was  embellished  with  spectacles,  and  wore  a 
white  neckerchief.  Below  his  single-breasted  black  surtout, 
which  was  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  appeared  the  usual  number 
of  pepper-and-salt  coloured  legs,  terminating  in  a  pair  of 
imperfectly  polished  boots.  Although  his  coat  was  short  in 
the  sleeves,  it  disclosed  no  vestige  of  a  linen  wristband ;  and 
although  there  was  quite  enough  of  his  face  to  admit  of  the 
encroachment  of  a  shirt  collar,  it  was  not  graced  by  the 
smallest  approach  to  that  appendage.  He  presented,  alto- 
gether, rather  a  mildewy  appearance,  and  emitted  a  fragrant 
odour  of  full-flavoured  Cubas. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  was  habited  in  a  coarse  blue  coat, 
which,  without  being  either  a  great-coat  or  a  surtout,  partook 
of  the  nature  and  qualities  of  both,  had  about  him  that  sort 
of  slovenly  smartness,  and  swaggering  gait,  which  is  peculiar 
to  young  gentlemen  who  smoke  in  the  streets  by  day,  shout 
and  scream  in  the  same  by  night,  call  waiters  by  their 
Christian  names,  and  do  various  other  acts  and  deeds  of  an 
equally  facetious  description.  He  wore  a  pair  of  plaid  trousers, 
and  a  large  rough  double-breasted  waistcoat;  out  of  doors, 
he  carried  a  thick  stick  with  a  big  top.  He  eschewed  gloves, 
and  looked,  upon  the  whole,  something  like  a  dissipated 
Robinson  Crusoe. 

Such  were  the  two  worthies  to  whom  Mr.  Pickwick  was 
introduced,  as  he  took  his  seat  at  the  breakfast  table  on 
Christmas  morning. 


4  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Splendid  morning,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  slightly  nodded  his  assent  to  the  proposi- 
tion, and  asked  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  for  the  mustard. 

"Have  you  come  far  this  morning,  gentlemen?"  inquired 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

'*  Blue  Lion  at  Muggleton,"  briefly  responded  Mr.  Allen. 

"You  should  have  joined  us  last  night,""  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  So  we  should,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer,  "  but  the  brandy  was 
too  good  to  leave  in  a  hurry :  wasn't  it,  Ben  ? v 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen ;  "  and  the  cigars 
were  not  bad,  or  the  pork  chops  either:  were  they,  Bob?" 

"  Decidedly  not,"  said  Bob.  The  particular  friends  resumed 
their  attack  upon  the  breakfast,  more  freely  than  before,  as 
if  the  recollection  of  last  night's  supper  had  imparted  a  new 
relish  to  the  meal. 

"Peg  away,  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Allen  to  his  companion,  en- 
couragingly. 

"  So  I  do,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer.  And  so,  to  do  him  justice, 
he  did. 

"Nothing  like  dissecting,  to  give  one  an  appetite,"  said 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  looking  round  the  table. 

Mr.  Pickwick  slightly  shuddered. 

"By  the  bye,  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Allen,  "have  you  finished 
that  leg  yet?" 

"Nearly,"  replied  Sawyer,  helping  himself  to  half  a  fowl 
as  he  spoke.  "  It's  a  very  muscular  one  for  a  child's." 

"Is  it?"  inquired  Mr.  Allen,  carelessly. 

"  Very,"  said  Bob  Sawyer,  with  his  mouth  full. 

"I've  put  my  name  down  for  an  arm,  at  our  place,"  said 
Mr.  Allen.  "  We're  clubbing  for  a  subject,  and  the  list  is 
nearly  full,  only  we  can't  get  hold  of  any  fellow  that  wants 
a  head.  I  wish  you'd  take  it." 

"  No,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer ;  "  can't  afford  expensive  luxuries." 

"Nonsense !"  said  Allen. 

"  Can't  indeed,"  rejoined  Bob  Sawyer.  "  I  wouldn't  mind 
a  brain,  but  I  couldn't  stand  a  whole  head." 


ARABELLA  AND  HER  BROTHER.  5 

"  Hush,  hush,  gentlemen,  pray,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  hear 
the  ladies." 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  spoke,  the  ladies,  gallantly  escorted  by 
Messrs.  Snodgrass,  Winkle,  and  Tupman,  returned  from  an 
early  walk. 

"Why,  Ben!"  said  Arabella,  in  a  tone  which  expressed 
more  surprise  than  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  her  brother. 

"  Come  to  take  you  home  to-morrow,"  replied  Benjamin. 

Mr.  Winkle  turned  pale. 

"Don't  you  see  Bob  Sawyer,  Arabella ?"  inquired  Mr. 
Benjamin  Allen,  somewhat  reproachfully.  Arabella  gracefully 
held  out  her  hand,  in  acknowledgement  of  Bob  Sawyer's 
presence.  A  thrill  of  hatred  struck  to  Mr.  Winkle's  heart, 
as  Bob  Sawyer  inflicted  on  the  proffered  hand  a  perceptible 
squeeze. 

"Ben,  dear!"  said  Arabella,  blushing;  "have — have — you 
been  introduced  to  Mr.  Winkle?" 

"  I  have  not  been,  but  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  be,  Arabella," 
replied  her  brother  gravely.  Here  Mr.  Allen  bowed  grimly 
to  Mr.  Winkle,  while  Mr.  Winkle  and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyej- 
glanced  mutual  distrust  out  of  the  corners  of  their  eyes. 

The  arrival  of  the  two  new  visitors,  and  the  consequent 
check  upon  Mr.  Winkle  and  the  young  lady  with  the  fur 
round  her  boots,  would  in  all  probability  have  proved  a  very 
unpleasant  interruption  to  the  hilarity  of  the  party,  had  not 
the  cheerfulness  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  the  good  humour  of 
the  host,  been  exerted  to  the  very  utmost  for  the  common 
weal.  Mr.  Winkle  gradually  insinuated  himself  into  the  good 
graces  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  and  even  joined  in  a  friendly 
conversation  with  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer;  who,  enlivened  with  the 
brandy,  and  the  breakfast,  and  the  talking,  gradually  ripened 
into  a  state  of  extreme  facetiousness,  and  related  with  much 
glee  an  agreeable  anecdote,  about  the  removal  of  a  tumour  on 
some  gentleman's  head :  which  he  illustrated  by  means  of  an 
oyster-knife  and  a  half-quartern  loaf,  to  the  great  edification 
of  the  assembled  company.  Then,  the  whole  train  went  to 


6  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

church,  where  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  fell  fast  asleep :  while  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  abstracted  his  thoughts  from  worldly  matters,  by 
the  ingenious  process  of  carving  his  name  on  the  seat  of  the 
pew,  in  corpulent  letters  of  four  inches  long. 

"Now,"  said  Wardle,  after  a  substantial  lunch,  with  the 
agreeable  items  of  strong-beer  and  cherry -brandy,  had  been 
done  ample  justice  to  ;  "  what  say  you  to  an  hour  on  the  ice  ? 
We  shall  have  plenty  of  time." 

"  Capital ! "  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Prime!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  You  skate,  of  course,  Winkle  ? "  said  Wardle. 

"  Ye-yes ;  oh,  yes,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle.  "  I — I — am  rather 
out  of  practice." 

"  Oh,  do  skate,  Mr.  Winkle,"  said  Arabella.  "  I  like  to 
see  it  so  much." 

"Oh,  it  is  so  graceful,"  said  another  young  lady. 

A  third  young  lady  said  it  was  elegant,  and  a  fourth 
expressed  her  opinion  that  it  was  "swan-like." 

"I  should  be  very  happy,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mr.  Winkle, 
reddening;  "but  I  have  no  skates." 

This  objection  was  at  once  overruled.  Trundle  had  a 
couple  of  pair,  and  the  fat  boy  announced  that  there  were 
half-a-dozen  more  down  stairs :  whereat  Mr.  Winkle  expressed 
exquisite  delight,  and  looked  exquisitely  uncomfortable. 

Old  Wardle  led  the  way  to  a  pretty  large  sheet  of  ice ; 
and  the  fat  boy  and  Mr.  Weller,  having  shovelled  and  swept 
away  the  snow  which  had  fallen  on  it  during  the  night,  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  adjusted  his  skates  with  a  dexterity  which  to  Mr. 
Winkle  was  perfectly  marvellous,  and  described  circles  with 
his  left  leg,  and  cut  figures  of  eight,  and  inscribed  upon  the 
ice,  without  once  stopping  for  breath,  a  great  many  other 
pleasant  and  astonishing  devices,  to  the  excessive  satisfaction 
of  Mr.  Pickwick,  Mr.  Tupman,  and  the  ladies :  which  reached 
a  pitch  of  positive  enthusiasm,  when  old  Wardle  and  Benjamin 
Allen,  assisted  by  the  aforesaid  Bob  Sawyer,  performed  some 
mystic  evolutions,  which  they  called  a  reel. 


MR.  WINKLE  ON  SKATES.  7 

All  this  time,  Mr.  Winkle,  with  his  face  and  hands  blue 
with  the  cold,  had  been  forcing  a  gimlet  into  the  soles  of 
his  feet,  and  putting  his  skates  on,  with  the  points  behind, 
and  getting  the  straps  into  a  very  complicated  and  entangled 
state,  with  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Snodgrass,  who  knew  rather 
less  about  skates  than  a  Hindoo.  At  length,  however,  with 
the  assistance  of  Mr.  Weller,  the  unfortunate  skates  were 
firmly  screwed  and  buckled  on,  and  Mr.  Winkle  was  raised 
to  his  feet. 

"Now,  then,  sir,"  said  Sam,  in  an  encouraging  tone;  "off 
vith  you,  and  show  'em  how  to  do  it.11 

"  Stop,  Sam,  stop ! "  said  Mr.  Winkle,  trembling  violently, 
and  clutching  hold  of  Sam's  arms  with  the  grasp  of  a  drowning 
man.  "  How  slippery  it  is,  Sam  ! " 

"Not  an  uncommon  thing  upon  ice,  sir,"  replied  Mr. 
Weller.  "  Hold  up,  sir  !" 

This  last  observation  of  Mr.  Welter's  bore  reference  to  a 
demonstration  Mr.  Winkle  made  at  the  instant,  of  a  frantic 
desire  to  throw  his  feet  in  the  air,  and  dash  the  back  of  his 
head  on  the  ice. 

"  These — these — are  very  awkward  skates ;  ain't  they,  Sam  ?  " 
inquired  Mr.  Winkle,  staggering. 

"I'm  afeerd  there's  a  orkard  genTm'n  in  'em,  sir,"  replied 
Sam. 

"Now,  Winkle,"  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  quite  unconscious 
that  there  was  anything  the  matter.  "  Come ;  the  ladies  are 
all  anxiety." 

"Yes,  yes,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  with  a  ghastly  smile. 
"  I'm  coming." 

"Just  a  goin'  to  begin,"  said  Sam,  endeavouring  to  dis- 
engage himself.  "Now,  sir,  start  off!" 

"Stop  an  instant,  Sam,"  gasped  Mr.  Winkle,  clinging 
most  affectionately  to  Mr.  Weller.  "  I  find  I've  got  a  couple 
of  coats  at  home  that  I  don't  want,  Sam.  You  may  have 
them,  Sam." 

"  Thank'ee,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 


8  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Never  mind  touching  your  hat,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Winkle, 
hastily.  "  You  needn't  take  your  hand  away  to  do  that.  I 
meant  to  have  given  you  five  shillings  this  morning  for  a 
Christmas-box,  Sam.  I'll  give  it  you  this  afternoon,  Sam." 

"  You're  wery  good,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Just  hold  me  at  first,  Sam ;  will  you  ? "  said  Mr.  Winkle. 
"There — that's  right.  I  shall  soon  get  in  the  way  of  it, 
Sam.  Not  too  fast,  Sam ;  not  too  fast." 

Mr.  Winkle  stooping  forward,  with  his  body  half  doubled 
up,  was  being  assisted  over  the  ice  by  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  very 
singular  and  un-swan-like  manner,  when  Mr.  Pickwick  most 
innocently  shouted  from  the  opposite  bank : 

"  Sam ! " 

"Sir?" 

"  Here.     I  want  you." 

"  Let  go,  sir,"  said  Sam.  "  Don't  you  hear  the  governor 
a  callin'?  Let  go,  sir." 

With  a  violent  effort,  Mr.  Weller  disengaged  himself  from 
the  grasp  of  the  agonised  Pickwickian,  and,  in  so  doing, 
administered  a  considerable  impetus  to  the  unhappy  Mr. 
Winkle.  With  an  accuracy  which  no  degree  of  dexterity  or 
practice  could  have  insured,  that  unfortunate  gentleman  bore 
swiftly  down  into  the  centre  of  the  reel,  at  the  very  moment 
when  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  was  performing  a  flourish  of  unparal- 
leled beauty.  Mr.  Winkle  struck  wildly  against  him,  and 
with  a  loud  crash  they  both  fell  heavily  down.  Mr.  Pickwick 
ran  to  the  spot.  Bob  Sawyer  had  risen  to  his  feet,  but  Mr. 
Winkle  was  far  too  wise  to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  in  skates. 
He  was  seated  on  the  ice,  making  spasmodic  efforts  to  smile ; 
but  anguish  was  depicted  on  every  lineament  of  his  counte- 
nance. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  with  great 
anxiety. 

"  Not  much,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  rubbing  his  back  very  hard. 

"I  wish  you'd  let  me  bleed  you,"  said  Mr.  Benjamin,  with 
great  eagerness. 


ON  THE  ICE.  9 

"  No,  thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle  hurriedly. 

"I  really  think  you  had  better,11  said  Allen. 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle ;  "  Pd  rather  not." 

"  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Pickwick  ?"  inquired  Bob  Sawyer. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  excited  and  indignant.  He  beckoned  to 
Mr.  Weller,  and  said  in  a  stern  voice,  "Take  his  skates  off." 

"  No ;  but  really  I  had  scarcely  begun,"  remonstrated  Mr. 
Winkle. 

"  Take  his  skates  off,"  repeated  Mr.  Pickwick  firmly. 

The  command  was  not  to  be  resisted.  Mr.  Winkle  allowed 
Sam  to  obey  it  in  silence. 

"  Lift  him  up,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  Sam  assisted  him  to 
rise. 

Mr.  Pickwick  retired  a  few  paces  apart  from  the  by-standers ; 
and,  beckoning  his  friend  to  approach,  fixed  a  searching  look 
upon  him,  and  uttered  in  a  low,  but  distinct  and  emphatic 
tone,  these  remarkable  words : 

"  You're  a  humbug,  sir." 

"A  what?"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  starting. 

"A  humbug,  sir.  I  will  speak  plainer,  if  you  wish  it. 
An  impostor,  sir." 

With  those  words,  Mr.  Pickwick  turned  slowly  on  his 
heel,  and  rejoined  his  friends. 

While  Mr.  Pickwick  was  delivering  himself  of  the  sentiment 
just  recorded,  Mr.  Weller  and  the  fat  boy,  having  by  their 
joint  endeavours  cut  out  a  slide,  were  exercising  themselves 
thereupon,  in  a  very  masterly  and  brilliant  manner.  Sam 
Weller,  in  particular,  was  displaying  that  beautiful  feat  of 
fancy-sliding  which  is  currently  denominated  "knocking  at 
the  cobbler's  door,"  and  which  is  achieved  by  skimming  over 
the  ice  on  one  foot,  and  occasionally  giving  a  postman's  knock 
upon  it  with  the  other.  It  was  a  good  long  slide,  and  there 
was  something  in  the  motion  which  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  was 
very  cold  with  standing  still,  could  not  help  envying. 

"It  looks  a  nice  warm  exercise  that,  doesn't  it?"  he 
inquired  of  Wardle,  when  that  gentleman  was  thoroughly 


10  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

out  of  breath,  by  reason  of  the  indefatigable  manner  in  which 
he  had  converted  his  legs  into  a  pair  of  compasses,  and  drawn 
complicated  problems  on  the  ice. 

"All,  it  does  indeed,"  replied  Wardle.     "Do  you  slide ?" 

"  I  used  to  do  so,  on  the  gutters,  when  I  was  a  boy,111  replied 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Try  it  now,"  said  Wardle. 

"  Oh  do  please,  Mr.  Pickwick ! "  cried  all  the  ladies. 

"I  should  be  very  happy  to  afford  you  any  amusement," 
replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  "but  I  haven't  done  such  a  thing 
these  thirty  years." 

"  Pooh !  pooh  !  Nonsense  ! "  said  Wardle,  dragging  off  his 
skates  with  the  impetuosity  which  characterised  all  his  pro- 
ceedings. "  Here ;  Til  keep  you  company ;  come  along ! " 
And  away  went  the  good  tempered  old  fellow  down  the 
slide,  with  a  rapidity  which  came  very  close  upon  Mr.  Weller, 
and  beat  the  fat  boy  all  to  nothing. 

Mr.  Pickwick  paused,  considered,  pulled  off  his  gloves  and 
put  them  in  his  hat:  took  two  or  three  short  runs,  baulked 
himself  as  often,  and  at  last  took  another  run,  and  went 
sloAvly  and  gravely  down  the  slide,  with  his  feet  about  a  yard 
and  a  quarter  apart,  amidst  the  gratified  shouts  of  all  the 
spectators. 

"  Keep  the  pot  a  bilin1,  sir ! "  said  Sam ;  and  down  went 
Wardle  again,  and  then  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  then  Sam,  and 
then  Mr.  Winkle,  and  then  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  and  then  the 
fat  boy,  and  then  Mr.  Snodgrass,  following  closely  upon 
each  other's  heels,  and  running  after  each  other  with  as  much 
eagerness  as  if  all  their  future  prospects  in  life  depended  on 
their  expedition. 

It  was  the  most  intensely  interesting  thing,  to  observe  the 
manner  in  which  Mr.  Pickwick  performed  his  share  in  the 
ceremony ;  to  watch  the  torture  of  anxiety  with  which  he 
viewed  the  person  behind,  gaining  upon  him  at  the  imminent 
hazard  of  tripping  him  up ;  to  see  him  gradually  expend  the 
painful  force  he  had  put  on  at  first,  and  turn  slowly  round 


A  CATASTROPHE.  11 

on  the  slide,  with  his  face  towards  the  point  from  which  he 
had  started ;  to  contemplate  the  playful  smile  which  mantled 
on  his  face  when  he  had  accomplished  the  distance,  and  the 
eagerness  with  which  he  turned  round  when  he  had  done  so, 
and  ran  after  his  predecessor :  his  black  gaiters  tripping 
pleasantly  through  the  snow,  and  his  eyes  beaming  cheerfulness 
and  gladness  through  his  spectacles.  And  when  he  was 
knocked  down  (which  happened  upon  the  average  every  third 
round),  it  was  the  most  invigorating  sight  that  can  possibly 
be  imagined,  to  behold  him  gather  up  his  hat,  gloves,  and 
handkerchief,  with  a  glowing  countenance,  and  resume  his 
station  in  the  rank,  with  an  ardour  and  enthusiasm  that 
nothing  could  abate. 

The  sport  was  at  its  height,  the  sliding  was  at  the  quickest, 
the  laughter  was  at  the  loudest,  when  a  sharp  smart  crack 
was  heard.  There  was  a  quick  rush  towards  the  bank,  a  wild 
scream  from  the  ladies,  and  a  shout  from  Mr.  Tupman.  A 
large  mass  of  ice  disappeared ;  the  water  bubbled  up  over  it ; 
Mr.  Pickwick's  hat,  gloves,  and  handkerchief  were  floating 
on  the  surface ;  and  this  was  all  of  Mr.  Pickwick  that  any- 
body could  see. 

Dismay  and  anguish  were  depicted  on  every  countenance, 
the  males  turned  pale,  and  the  females  fainted,  Mr.  Snodgrass 
and  Mr.  Winkle  grasped  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  gazed 
at  the  spot  where  their  leader  had  gone  down,  with  frenzied 
eagerness:  while  Mr.  Tupman,  by  way  of  rendering  the 
promptest  assistance,  and  at  the  same  time  conveying  to  any 
persons  who  might  be  within  hearing,  the  clearest  possible 
notion  of  the  catastrophe,  ran  off  across  the  country  at  his 
utmost  speed,  screaming  "  Fire ! M  with  all  his  might. 

It  was  at  this  moment,  when  old  Wardle  and  Sam  Weller 
were  approaching  the  hole  with  cautious  steps,  and  Mr. 
Benjamin  Allen  was  holding  a  hurried  consultation  with  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer,  on  the  advisability  of  bleeding  the  company 
generally,  as  an  improving  little  bit  of  professional  practice 
— it  was  at  this  very  moment,  that  a  face,  head,  and  shoulders, 


12  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

emerged  from  beneath  the  water,  and  disclosed  the  features 
and  spectacles  of  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Keep  yourself  up  for  an  instant — for  only  one  instant ! " 
bawled  Mr.  Snodgrass. 

"  Yes,  do ;  let  me  implore  you — for  my  sake  ! ""  roared  Mr. 
Winkle,  deeply  affected.  The  adjuration  was  rather  unneces- 
sary ;  the  probability  being,  that  if  Mr.  Pickwick  had  declined 
to  keep  himself  up  for  anybody  else's  sake,  it  would  have  oc- 
curred to  him  that  he  might  as  well  do  so,  for  his  own. 

"Do  you  feel  the  bottom  there,  old  fellow?"  said  Wardle. 

"  Yes,  certainly,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  wringing  the  water 
from  his  head  and  face,  and  gasping  for  breath.  "  I  fell  upon 
my  back.  I  couldn't  get  on  my  feet  at  first." 

The  clay  upon  so  much  of  Mr.  Pickwick's  coat  as  was  yet 
visible,  bore  testimony  to  the  accuracy  of  this  statement ;  and  as 
the  fears  of  the  spectators  were  still  further  relieved  by  the  fat 
boy's  suddenly  recollecting  that  the  water  was  nowhere  more 
than  five  feet  deep,  prodigies  of  valour  were  performed  to  get 
him  out.  After  a  vast  quantity  of  splashing,  and  cracking, 
and  struggling,  Mr.  Pickwick  was  at  length  fairly  extricated 
from  his  unpleasant  position,  and  once  more  stood  on  dry  land. 

"  Oh,  he'll  catch  his  death  of  cold,"  said  Emily. 

"Dear  old  thing!11  said  Arabella.  "Let  me  wrap  this 
shawl  round  you,  Mr.  Pickwick." 

"Ah,  that's  the  best  thing  you  can  do,11  said  Wardle; 
"and  when  youVe  got  it  on,  run  home  as  fast  as  your  legs 
can  carry  you,  and  jump  into  bed  directly." 

A  dozen  shawls  were  offered  on  the  instant.  Three  or  four  of 
the  thickest  having  been  selected,  Mr.  Pickwick  was  wrapped 
up,  and  started  off,  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Weller :  pre- 
senting the  singular  phenomenon  of  an  elderly  gentleman, 
dripping  wet,  and  without  a  hat,  with  his  arms  bound  down 
to  his  sides,  skimming  over  the  ground,  without  any  clearly 
defined  purpose,  at  the  rate  of  six  good  English  miles  an  hour. 

But  Mr.  Pickwick  cared  not  for  appearances  in  such  an 
extreme  case,  and  urged  on  by  Sam  Weller,  he  kept  at  the 


THE  JOVIAL  PARTY  BREAKS  UP.  13 

very  top  of  his  speed  until  he  reached  the  door  of  Manor 
Farm,  where  Mr.  Tupman  had  arrived  some  five  minutes 
before,  and  had  frightened  the  old  lady  into  palpitations  of 
the  heart  by  impressing  her  with  the  unalterable  conviction 
that  the  kitchen  chimney  was  on  fire — a  calamity  which 
always  presented  itself  in  glowing  colours  to  the  old  lady's 
mind,  when  anybody  about  her  evinced  the  smallest  agitation. 

Mr.  Pickwick  paused  not  an  instant  until  he  was  snug 
in  bed.  Sam  Weller  lighted  a  blazing  fire  in  the  room,  and 
took  up  his  dinner ;  a  bowl  of  punch  was  carried  up  afterwards, 
and  a  grand  carouse  held  in  honour  of  his  safety.  Old 
Wardle  would  not  hear  of  his  rising,  so  they  made  the  bed 
the  chair,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  presided.  A  second  and  a  third 
bowl  were  ordered  in ;  and  when  Mr.  Pickwick  awoke  next 
morning,  there  was  not  a  symptom  of  rheumatism  about 
him :  which  proves,  as  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  very  justly  observed, 
that  there  is  nothing  like  hot  punch  in  such  cases :  and  that 
if  ever  hot  punch  did  fail  to  act  as  a  preventive,  it  was  merely 
because  the  patient  fell  into  the  vulgar  error  of  not  taking 
enough  of  it. 

The  jovial  party  broke  up  next  morning.  Breakings  up  are 
capital  things  in  our  school  days,  but  in  after  life  they  are 
painful  enough.  Death,  self-interest,  and  fortune's  changes, 
are  every  day  breaking  up  many  a  happy  group,  and  scattering 
them  far  and  wide ;  and  the  boys  and  girls  never  come  back 
again.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  it  was  exactly  the  case 
in  this  particular  instance;  all  we  wish  to  inform  the  reader 
is,  that  the  different  members  of  the  party  dispersed  to  their 
several  homes;  that  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends  once  more 
took  their  seats  on  the  top  of  the  Muggleton  coach;  and 
that  Arabella  Allen  repaired  to  her  place  of  destination, 
wherever  it  might  have  been — we  dare  say  Mr.  Winkle  knew, 
but  we  confess  we  don't — under  the  care  and  guardianship  of 
her  brother  Benjamin,  and  his  most  intimate  and  particular 
friend,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

Before  they  separated,  however,  that  gentlemen   and  Mr. 


14  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Benjamin  Allen  drew  Mr.  Pickwick  aside  with  an  air  of  some 
mystery  :  and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  thrusting  his  forefinger  between 
two  of  Mr.  Pickwick's  ribs,  and  thereby  displaying  his  native 
drollery,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  anatomy  of  the  human 
frame,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  inquired : 

"I  say,  old  boy,  where  do  you  hang  out?11 

Mr.  Pickwick  replied  that  he  was  at  present  suspended  at 
the  George  and  Vulture. 

"I  wish  you'd  come  and  see  me,11  said  Bob  Sawyer. 

"Nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure,11  replied  Mr. 
Pickwick.  ,  gjjf 

"There^  my  lodgings,11  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  producing  a 
card.  "  Lant  Street,  Borough ;  ifs  near  GuyX  and  handy  for 
me,  you  know.  Little  distance  after  youVe  passed  Saint 
George's  Church — turns  out  of  the  High  Street  on  the  right 
hand  side  the  way.11 

"I  shall  find  it,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Come  on  Thursday  fortnight,  and  bring  the  other  chaps 
with  you,11  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  "  I'm  going  to  have  a  few 
medical  fellows  that  night. 

Mr.  Pickwick  expressed  the  pleasure  it  would  afford  him 
to  meet  the  medical  fellows ;  and  after  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  had 
informed  him  that  he  meant  to  be  very  cosey,  and  that  his 
friend  Ben  was  to  be  one  of  the  party,  they  shook  hands  and 
separated. 

We  feel  that  in  this  place  we  lay  ourself  open  to  the 
inquiry  whether  Mr.  Winkle  was  whispering,  during  this  brief 
conversation,  to  Arabella  Allen ;  and  if  so,  what  he  said ;  and 
furthermore,  whether  Mr.  Snodgrass  was  conversing  apart  with 
Emily  Wardle;  and  if  so,  what  fie  said.  To  this,  we  reply, 
that  whatever  they  might  have  said  to  the  ladies,  they  said 
nothing  at  all  to  Mr.  Pickwick  or  Mr.  Tupman  for  eight-and- 
twenty  miles,  and  that  they  sighed  very  often,  refused  ale 
and  brandy,  and  looked  gloomy.  If  our  observant  lady 
readers  can  deduce  any  satisfactory  inferences  from  these 
facts,  we  beg  them  by  all  means  to  do  so. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

WHICH  IS  ALL  ABOUT   THE  LAW,  AND   SUNDRY  GREAT    AUTHORITIES 
LEARNED   THEREIN. 

SCATTERED  about,  in  various  holes  and  corners  of  the 
Temple,  are  certain  dark  and  dirty  chambers,  in  and  out  of 
which,  all  the  morning  in  Vacation,  and  half  the  evening  too 
in  Term  time,  there  may  be  seen  constantly  hurrying  with 
bundles  of  papers  under  their  arms,  and  protruding  from  their 
pockets,  an  almost  uninterrupted  succession  of  Lawyers1  Clerks. 
There  are  several  grades  of  Lawyers'  Clerks.  There  is  the 
Articled  Clerk,  who  has  paid  a  premium,  and  is  an  attorney 
in  perspective,  who  runs  a  tailor's  bill,  receives  invitations 
to  parties,  knows  a  family  in  Gower  Street,  and  another  in  v 
Tavistock  Square :  who  goes  out  of  town  every  Long  Vacation 
to  see  his  father,  who  keeps  live  horses  innumerable ;  and  who 
is,  in  short,  the  very  aristocrat  of  clerks.  There  is  the  salaried 
clerk — out  of  door,  or  in  door,  as  the  case  may  be— who 
devotes  the  major  part  of  his  thirty  shillings  a  week  to  his 
personal  pleasure  and  adornment,  repairs  half-price  to  the 
Adelphi  Theatre  at  least  three  times  a  week,  dissipates 
majestically  at  the  cider  cellars  afterwards,  and  is  a  dirty 
caricature  of  the  fashion  which  expired  six  months  ago. 
There  is  the  middle-aged  copying  clerk,  with  a  large  family, 
who  is  always  shabby,  and  often  drunk.  And  there  are  the 
office  lads  in  their  first  surtouts,  who  feel  a  befitting  contempt 
for  boys  at  day-schools :  club  as  they  go  home  at  night,  for . 


16  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

saveloys  and  porter:  and  think  there's  nothing  like  "life.11 
There  are  varieties  of  the  genus,  too  numerous  to  recapitulate, 
but  however  numerous  they  may  be,  they  are  all  to  be  seen, 
at  certain  regulated  business  hours,  hurrying  to  and  from  the 
places  we  have  just  mentioned. 

These  sequestered  nooks  are  the  public  offices  of  the  legal 
profession,  where  writs  are  issued,  judgments  signed,  declarations 
iiled,  and  numerous  other  ingenious  machines  put  in  motion 
for  the  torture  and  torment  of  His  Majesty's  liege  subjects, 
and  the  comfort  and  emolument  of  the  practitioners  of  the 
law.  They  are,  for  the  most  part,  low-roofed,  mouldy  rooms, 
where  innumerable  rolls  of  parchment,  which  have  been 
perspiring  in  secret  for  the  last  century,  send  forth  an 
agreeable  odour,  which  is  mingled  by  day  with  the  scent  of 
the  dry  rot,  and  by  night  with  the  various  exhalations  which 
arise  from  damp  cloaks,  festering  umbrellas,  and  the  coarsest 
tallow  candles. 

About  half-past  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  some  ten  days 
or  a  fortnight  after  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends  returned  to 
London,  there  hurried  into  one  of  these  offices,  an  individual 
in  a  brown  coat  and  brass  buttons,  whose  long  hair  was 
scrupulously  twisted  round  the  rim  of  his  napless  hat,  and 
whose  soiled  drab  trousers  were  so  tightly  strapped  over  his 
Blucher  boots,  that  his  knees  threatened  every  moment  to 
start  from  their  concealment.  He  produced  from  his  coat 
pockets  a  long  and  narrow  strip  of  parchment,  on  which  the 
presiding  functionary  impressed  an  illegible  black  stamp.  He 
then  drew  forth  four  scraps  of  paper,  of  similar  dimensions, 
each  containing  a  printed  copy  of  the  strip  of  parchment 
with  blanks  for  a  name;  and  having  filled  up  the  blanks, 
put  all  the  five  documents  in  his  pocket,  and  hurried  away. 

The  man  in  the  brown  coat,  with  the  cabalistic  documents 
in  his  pocket,  was  no  other  than  our  old  acquaintance  Mr. 
Jackson,  of  the  house  of  Dodson  and  Fogg,  Freeman's  Court, 
Cornhill.  Instead  of  returning  to  the  office  from  whence  he 
came,  however,  he  bent  his  steps  direct  to  Sun  Court,  and 


MR.   JACKSON   ON  BUSINESS.  17 

walking  straight  into  the  George  and  Vulture,  demanded  to 
know  whether  one  Mr.  Pickwick  was  within. 

"  Call  Mr.  Pickwick's  servant,  Tom,"  said  the  barmaid  of 
the  George  and  Vulture. 

"Don't  trouble  yourself,"  said  Mr.  Jackson,  "I've  come 
on  business.  If  you'll  show  me  Mr.  Pickwick's  room  I'll  step 
up  myself." 

"  What  name,  sir  ?  "  said  the  waiter. 

"Jackson,"  replied  the  clerk. 

The  waiter  stepped  up  stairs  to  announce  Mr.  Jackson ;  but 
Mr.  Jackson  saved  him  the  trouble  by  following  close  at  his 
heels,  and  walking  into  the  apartment  before  he  could  articulate 
a  syllable. 

Mr.  Pickwick  had,  that  day,  invited  his  three  friends  to 
dinner;  they  were  all  seated  round  the  fire,  drinking  their 
wine,  when  Mr.  Jackson  presented  himself,  as  above  described. 

"How  de  do,  sir?"  said  Mr.  Jackson,  nodding  to  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

That  gentleman  bowed,  and  looked  somewhat  surprised, 
for  the  physiognomy  of  Mr.  Jackson  dwelt  not  in  his  recol- 
lection. 

"  I  have  called  from  Dodson  and  Fogg's,"  said  Mr.  Jackson, 
in  an  explanatory  tone. 

Mr.  Pickwick  roused  at  the  name.  "  I  refer  you  to  my 
attorney,  sir  :  Mr.  Perker,  of  Gray's  Inn,"  said  he.  "  Waiter, 
show  this  gentleman  out." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Jackson,  deliberately 
depositing  his  hat  on  the  floor,  and  drawing  from  his  pocket 
the  strip  of  parchment.  "But  personal  service,  by  clerk  or 
agent,  in  these  cases,  you  know,  Mr.  Pickwick — nothing  like 
caution,  sir,  in  all  legal  forms  ? " 

Here  Mr.  Jackson  cast  his  eye  on  the  parchment ;  and, 
resting  his  hands  on  the  table,  and  looking  round  with  a 
winning  and  persuasive  smile,  said :  "  Now,  come ;  don't  let's 
have  no  words  about  such  a  little  matter  as  this.  Which  of 
you  gentlemen's  name's  Snodgrass  ?  " 

VOL.  ii.  c 


18  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

At  this  inquiry  Mr.  Snodgrass  gave  such  a  very  undisguised 
and  palpable  start,  that  no  further  reply  was  needed. 

"  Ah !  I  thought  so,"  said  Mr.  Jackson,  more  affably  than 
before.  "I've  got  a  little  something  to  trouble  you  with, 
sir.1' 

"  Me  !     exclaimed  Mr.  Snodgrass. 

"  It's  only  a  subpoena  in  Bardell  and  Pickwick  on  behalf  of 
the  plaintiff,"  replied  Jackson,  singling  out  one  of  the  slips 
of  paper,  and  producing  a  shilling  from  his  waistcoat  pocket. 
"It'll  come  on,  in  the  settens  after  Term;  fourteenth  of 
Febooary,  we  expect;  we've  marked  it  a  special  jury  cause, 
and  it's  only  ten  down  the  paper.  That's  yours,  Mr. 
Snodgrass."  As  Jackson  said  this  he  presented  the  parchment 
before  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Snodgrass,  and  slipped  the  paper  and 
the  shilling  into  his  hand. 

Mr.  Tupman  had  witnessed  this  process  in  silent  astonish- 
ment, when  Jackson,  turning  sharply  upon  him,  said: 

"  I  think  I  ain't  mistaken  when  I  say  your  name's  Tupman, 
am  I?" 

Mr.  Tupman  looked  at  Mr.  Pickwick;  but,  perceiving  no 
encouragement  in  that  gentleman's  widely-opened  eyes  to 
deny  his  name,  said : 

"Yes,  my  name  is  Tupman,  sir." 

"And  that  other  gentleman's  Mr.  Winkle,  I  think?"  said 
Jackson. 

Mr.  Winkle  faltered  out  a  reply  in  the  affirmative ;  and 
both  gentlemen  were  forthwith  invested  with  a  slip  of  paper, 
and  a  shilling  each,  by  the  dexterous  Mr.  Jackson. 

"Now,"  said  Jackson,  "I'm  afraid  you'll  think  me  rather 
troublesome,  but  I  want  somebody  else,  if  it  ain't  inconvenient. 
I  have  Samuel  Weller's  name  here,  Mr.  Pickwick." 

"Send  my  servant  here,  waiter,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  The 
waiter  retired,  considerably  astonished,  and  Mr.  Pickwick 
motioned  Jackson  to  a  seat. 

There  was  a  painful  pause,  which  was  at  length  broken 
by  the  innocent  defendant. 


LEGAL  SERVICE.  19 

"  I  suppose,  sir,'  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  his  indignation  rising 
while  he  spoke ;  "  I  suppose,  sir,  that  it  is  the  intention  of 
your  employers  to  seek  to  criminate  me  upon  the  testimony 
of  my  own  friends  ? " 

Mr.  Jackson  struck  his  forefinger  several  times  against  the 
left  side  of  his  nose,  to  intimate  that  he  was  not  there  to 
disclose  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house,  and  playfully  rejoined  : 

"Not  knowing  can't  say." 

"  For  what  other  reason,  sir,"  pursued  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  are 
these  subpoenas  served  upon  them,  if  not  for  this  ?  " 

"Very  good  plant,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  replied  Jackson,  slowly 
shaking  his  head.  "But  it  won't  do.  No  harm  in  trying, 
but  there's  little  to  be  got  out  of  me." 

Here  Mr.  Jackson  smiled  once  more  upon  the  company, 
and,  applying  his  left  thumb  to  the  tip  of  his  nose,  worked 
a  visionary  coffee-mill  with  his  right  hand  :  thereby  performing 
a  very  graceful  piece  of  pantomime  (then  much  in  vogue,  but 
now,  unhappily,  almost  obsolete)  which  was  familiarly  de- 
nominated "  taking  a  grinder. ' 

"No,  no,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Jackson,  in  conclusion; 
"  Perker's  people  must  guess  what  we've  served  these  subpoenas 
for.  If  they  can't,  they  must  wait  till  the  action  comes  on, 
and  then  they'll  find  out." 

Mr.  Pickwick  bestowed  a  look  of  excessive  disgust  on  his 
unwelcome  visitor,  and  would  probably  have  hurled  some 
tremendous  anathema  at  the  heads  of  Messrs.  Dodson  and 
Fogg,  had  not  Sam's  entrance  at  the  instant  interrupted  him. 

"Samuel  Weller?"  said  Mr.  Jackson,  inquiringly. 

"  Vun  o'  the  truest  things  as  you've  said  for  many  a  long 
year,"  replied  Sam,  in  a  most  composed  manner. 

"  Here's  a  subpoena  for  you,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Jackson. 

"  What's  that  in  English  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Here's  the  original,"  said  Jackson,  declining  the  required 
explanation. 

"Which?"  said  Sam. 

"This,"  replied  Jackson,  shaking  the  parchment. 


20  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

«  Oh,  that's  the  'rig'nal,  is  it  ? '  said  Sam.  "  Well,  I'm  wery 
glad  I've  seen  the  'rig'nal,  cos  it's  a  gratifyin'  sort  o'  thing, 
and  eases  vun's  mind  so  much." 

"  And  here's  the  shilling,"  said  Jackson.  "  It's  from  Dodson 
and  Fogg's.' 

"And  it's  uncommon  handsome  o'  Dodson  and  Fogg,  as 
knows  so  little  of  me,  to  come  down  vith  a  present,"  said 
Sam.  "  I  feel  it  as  a  wery  high  compliment,  sir ;  it's  a  wery 
hon'rable  thing  to  them,  as  they  knows  how  to  reward  merit 
werever  they  meets  it.  Besides  wich,  it's  affectin'  to  one's 
feelin's." 

As  Mr.  Weller  said  this,  he  inflicted  a  little  friction  on  his 
right  eye-lid,  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  after  the  most 
approved  manner  of  actors  when  they  are  in  domestic 
pathetics. 

Mr.  Jackson  seemed  rather  puzzled  by  Sam's  proceedings ; 
but,  as  he  had  served  the  subprenas,  and  had  nothing  more 
to  say,  he  made  a  feint  of  putting  on  the  one  glove  which 
he  usually  carried  in  his  hand,  for  the  sake  of  appearances; 
and  returned  to  the  office  to  report  progress. 

Mr.  Pickwick  slept  little  that  night;  his  memory  had 
received  a  very  disagreeable  refresher  on  the  subject  of  Mrs. 
Bardell's  action.  He  breakfasted  betimes  next  morning,  and, 
desiring  Sam  to  accompany  him,  set  forth  towards  Gray's 
Inn  Square. 

"Sam!"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  round,  when  they  got 
to  the  end  of  Cheapside. 

"Sir?'  said  Sam,  stepping  up  to  his  master. 

"Which  way?" 

"  Up  Newgate  Street." 

Mr.  Pickwick  did  not  turn  round  immediately,  but  looked 
vacantly  in  Sam's  face  for  a  few  seconds,  and  heaved  a  deep 
sigh. 

"What's  the  matter,  sir?"  inquired  Sam. 

"This  action,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "is  expected  to, 
come  on,  on  the  fourteenth  pf  ^?xt  month." 


CELEBRATED  SASSAGE  FACTORY.  21 

"Remarkable  coincidence  that  'ere,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Why  remarkable,  Sam  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Walentine's  day,  sir,11  responded  Sam ;  "  regular  good  day 
for  a  breach  o'  promise  trial.1' 

Mr.  Welter's  smile  awakened  no  gleam  of  mirth  in  his 
master's  countenance.  Mr.  Pickwick  turned  abruptly  round, 
and  led  the  way  in  silence. 

They  had  walked  some  distance :  Mr.  Pickwick  trotting  on 
before,  plunged  in  profound  meditation,  and  Sam  following 
behind,  with  a  countenance  expressive  of  the  most  enviable 
and  easy  defiance  of  everything  and  everybody :  when  the 
latter,  who  was  always  especially  anxious  to  impart  to  his 
master  any  exclusive  information  he  possessed,  quickened  his 
pace  until  he  was  close  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  heels ;  and,  pointing 
up  at  a  house  they  were  passing,  said : 

"  Wery  nice  pork-shop  that  'ere,  sir." 

"  Yes,  it  seems  so,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Celebrated  Sassage  factory,"  said  Sam. 

"Is  it?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Is  it ! "  reiterated  Sam,  with  some  indignation ;  "  I  should 
rayther  think  it  was.  Why,  sir,  bless  your  innocent  eyebrows, 
that's  where  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  a  'spectable 
tradesman  took  place  four  year  ago." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  he  was  burked,  Sam  ? "  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  looking  hastily  round. 

"  No,  I  don't  indeed,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  "  I  wish  I  did ; 
far  worse  than  that.  He  was  the  master  o1  that  'ere  shop, 
sir,  and  the  inwenter  o1  the  patent-never-leavin'-off  sassage 
steam  ingine,  as  ud  swaller  up  a  pavin'  stone  if  you  put  it  too 
near,  and  grind  it  into  sassages  as  easy  as  if  it  was  a  tender 
young  babby.  Wery  proud  o1  that  machine  he  was,  as  it  was 
nat'ral  he  should  be,  and  he'd  stand  down  in  the  celler  a  lookin1 
at  it  wen  it  was  in  full  play,  till  he  got  quite  melancholy 
with  joy.  A  wery  happy  man  he'd  ha1  been,  sir,  in  the 
procession  o'  that  ere  ingine  and  two  more  lovely  hinfants 
besides,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  his  wife,  who  was  a  most 


22  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

ow-dacious  wixin.  She  was  always  a  follerin'  him  about,  and 
dinnin'  in  his  ears,  'till  at  last  he  couldn't  stand  it  no  longer. 
*  111  tell  you  what  it  is,  my  dear,'  he  says  one  day ;  *  if  you 
persewere  in  this  here  sort  of  amusement,''  he  says,  'I'm 
blessed  if  I  don't  go  away  to  'Merriker;  and  that's  all  about 
it.'  '  You're  a  idle  willin,'  says  she,  ' and  I  wish  the  'Merrikins 
joy  of  their  bargain.'  Arter  wich  she  keeps  on  abusin'  of 
him  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  runs  into  the  little  parlour 
behind  the  shop,  sets  to  a  screamin',  says  he'll  be  the  death 
on  her,  and  falls  in  a  fit,  which  lasts  for  three  good  hours — 
one  o'  them  fits  wich  is  all  screamin'  and  kickin'.  Well,  next 
mornin',  the  husband  was  missin'.  He  hadn't  taken  nothin' 
from  the  till, — hadn't  even  put  on  his  great-coat — so  it  was 
quite  clear  he  warn't  gone  to  Merriker.  Didn't  come  back 
next  day;  didn't  come  back  next  week;  Missis  had  bills 
printed,  sayin  that,  if  he'd  come  back,  he  should  be  forgiven 
everythin'  (which  was  very  liberal,  seem'  that  he  hadn't  done 
nothin'  at  all);  the  canals  was  dragged,  and  for  two  months 
artervards,  wenever  a  body  turned  up,  it  was  carried,  as  a 
reg'lar  thing,  straight  off  to  the  sassage  shop.  Hows'ever, 
none  on  'em  answered ;  so  they  gave  out  that  he'd  run  avay, 
and  she  kep  on  the  bis'ness.  One  Saturday  night,  a  little 
thin  old  gen  1'm'n  comes  into  the  shop  in  a  great  passion  and 
says,  'Are  you  the  missis  o'  this  here  shop?'  'Yes,  I  am,' 
says  she.  'Well,  ma'am,'  says  he,  'then  I've  just  looked  in 
to  say  that  me  and  my  family  ain't  a  goin'  to  be  choked  for 
nothin';  and  more  than  that,  ma  am,'  he  says,  'you'll  allow 
me  to  observe,  that  as  you  don't  use  the  primest  parts  of 
the  meat  in  the  manafacter  o'  sassages,  I  think  you'd  find 
beef  come  nearly  as  cheap  as  buttons.'  '  As  buttons,  sir ! ' 
says  she.  'Buttons,  ma'am,'  says  the  little  old  gentleman, 
unfolding  a  bit  of  paper,  and  shewin'  twenty  or  thirty  halves 
o'  buttons.  'Nice  seasonin'  for  sassages,  is  trousers'  buttons, 
ma'am.'  '  They're  my  husband's  buttons ! '  says  the  widder, 
beginnin'  to  faint.  '  What ! '  screams  the  little  old  gen'l'm'n, 
turnin'  wery  pale.  'I  see  it  all,'  says  the  widder ;  ' in  a  fit 


LEGAL  FICTIONS.  23 

of  temporary  insanity  he  rashly  converted  his-self  into  sassages  ! ' 
And  so  he  had,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  looking  steadily  into 
Mr.  Pickwick's  horror-stricken  countenance,  "or  else  he'd 
been  draw'd  into  the  ingine ;  but  however  that  might  ha' 
been,  the  little  old  genTm'n,  who  had  been  remarkably  partial 
to  sassages  all  his  life,  rushed  out  o'  the  shop  in  a  wild  state, 
and  was  never  heerd  on  artervards ! " 

The  relation  of  this  affecting  incident  of  private  life  brought 
master  and  man  to  Mr.  Perker's  chambers.  Lowten,  holding 
the  door  half  open,  was  in  conversation  with  a  rustily-clad, 
miserable-looking  man,  in  boots  without  toes  and  gloves 
without  fingers.  There  were  traces  of  privation  and  suffering 
— almost  of  despair — in  his  lank  and  care-worn  countenance; 
he  felt  his  poverty,  for  he  shrunk  to  the  dark  side  of  the 
staircase  as  Mr.  Pickwick  approached. 

"It's  very  unfortunate,1'  said  the  stranger,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Very,"  said  Lowten,  scribbling  his  name  on  the  door-post 
with  his  pen,  and  rubbing  it  out  again  with  the  feather. 
"  Will  you  leave  a  message  for  him  ?  " 

"  When  do  you  think  he'll  be  back  ? n  inquired  the 
stranger. 

"  Quite  uncertain,"  replied  Lowten,  winking  at  Mr.  Pickwick, 
as  the  stranger  cast  his  eyes  towards  the  ground. 

"  You  don't  think  it  would  be  of  any  use  my  waiting  for 
him  ? "  said  the  stranger,  looking  wistfully  into  the  office. 

"  Oh  no,  I'm  sure  it  wouldn't,"  replied  the  clerk,  moving  a 
little  more  into  the  centre  of  the  door- way.  "  He's  certain  not 
to  be  back  this  week,  and  it's  a  chance  whether  he  will  be 
next ;  for  when  Perker  once  gets  out  of  town,  he's  never  in  a 
hurry  to  come  back  again." 

"  Out  of  town  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  dear  me,  how  un- 
fortunate ! " 

"  Don't  go  away,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Lowten,  "  I've  got  a 
letter  for  you."  The  stranger  seeming  to  hesitate,  once  more 
looked  towards  the  ground,  and  the  clerk  winked  slyly  at  Mr. 
Pickwick,  as  if  to  intimate  that  some  exquisite  piece  of 


24  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

humour  was  going  forward,  though  what  it  was  Mr.  Pickwick 
could  not  for  the  life  of  him  divine. 

"Step  in,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Lowten.  "Well,  will  you 
leave  a  message,  Mr.  Watty,  or  will  you  call  again  ? " 

"  Ask  him  to  be  so  kind  as  to  leave  out  word  what  has 
been  done  in  my  business,1  said  the  man ;  "  for  God's  sake 
don't  neglect  it,  Mr.  Lowten." 

"No,  no;  I  won't  forget  it,"  replied  the  clerk.  "Walk 
in,  Mr.  Pickwick.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Watty ;  it's  a  fine  day 
for  walking,  isn't  it  ?  "  Seeing  that  the  stranger  still  lingered, 
he  beckoned  Sam  Weller  to  follow  his  master  in,  and  shut 
the  door  in  his  face. 

"There  never  was  such  a  pestering  bankrupt  as  that  since 
the  world  began,  I  do  believe ! "  said  Lowten,  throwing  down 
his  pen  with  the  air  of  an  injured  man.  "  His  affairs  haven't 
been  in  Chancery  quite  four  years  yet,  and  Pm  d — d  if  he 
don't  come  worrying  here  twice  a  week.  Step  this  way,  Mr. 
Pickwick.  Perker  is  in,  and  he'll  see  you,  I  know.  Devilish 
cold,"  he  added,  pettishly,  "standing  at  that  door,  wasting 
one's  time  with  such  seedy  vagabonds ! "  Having  very 
vehemently  stirred  a  particularly  large  fire  with  a  particularly 
small  poker,  the  clerk  led  the  way  to  his  principal's  private 
room,  and  announced  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  sir,"  said  little  Mr.  Perker,  bustling  up  from 
his  chair.  "Well,  my  dear  sir,  and  what's  the  news  about 
your  matter,  eh?  Anything  more  about  our  friends  in 
Freeman's  Court?  They've  not  been  sleeping,  /  know  that. 
Ah,  they're  very  smart  fellows;  very  smart,  indeed." 

As  the  little  man  concluded,  he  took  an  emphatic  pinch  of 
snuff,  as  a  tribute  to  the  smartness  of  Messrs.  Dodson  and  Fogg. 

"  They  are  great  scoundrels,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Aye,  aye,"  said  the  little  man;  "that's  a  matter  of 
opinion,  you  know,  and  we  won't  dispute  about  terms ;  because 
of  course  you  can't  be  expected  to  view  these  subjects  with 
a  professional  eye.  Well,  we've  done  everything  that's 
necessary.  I  have  retained  Serjeant  Snubbin." 


CONFERENCE   WITH   MR.   PERKER.  25 

"  Is  he  a  good  man  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Good  man  ! "  replied  Perker ;  "  bless  your  heart  and  soul, 
my  dear  sir,  Serjeant  Snubbin  is  at  the  very  top  of  his 
profession.  Gets  treble  the  business  of  any  man  in  court — 
engaged  in  every  case.  You  needn't  mention  it  abroad ;  but 
we  say — we  of  the  profession — that  Serjeant  Snubbin  leads 
the  court  by  the  nose."" 

The  little  man  took  another  pinch  of  snuff  as  he  made  this 
communication,  and  nodded  mysteriously  to  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  They  have  subpcena'd  my  three  friends,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Ah  !  of  course  they  would,""  replied  Perker.  "  Important 
witnesses ;  saw  you  in  a  delicate  situation." 

"But  she  fainted  of  her  own  accord,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  She  threw  herself  into  my  arms." 

"Very  likely,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Perker;  "very  likely 
and  very  natural.  Nothing  more  so,  my  dear  sir,  nothing. 
But  who's  to  prove  it?" 

"  They  have  subpcena'd  my  servant  too,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
quitting  the  other  point ;  for  there  Mr.  Perker's  question  had 
somewhat  staggered  him. 

"  Sam  ?  '  said  Perker. 

Mr.  Pickwick  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Of  course,  my  dear  sir;  of  course.  I  knew  they  would. 
I  could  have  told  you  that,  a  month  ago.  You  know,  my 
dear  sir,  if  you  will  take  the  management  of  your  affairs  into 
your  own  hands  after  intrusting  them  to  your  solicitor,  you  must 
also  take  the  consequences."  Here  Mr.  Perker  drew  himself 
up  with  conscious  dignity,  and  brushed  some  stray  grains  of 
snuff  from  his  shirt  frill. 

"And  what  do  they  want  him  to  prove?"  asked  Mr. 
Pickwick,  after  two  or  three  minutes'"  silence. 

"That  you  sent  him  up  to  the  plaintiff's  to  make  some 
offer  of  a  compromise,  I  suppose,"  replied  Perker.  "  It  don't 
matter  much,  though ;  I  don't  think  many  counsel  could  get 
a  great  deal  out  of  him™ 

"I  don't  think  they  could,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  smiling, 


26  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

despite  his  vexation,  at  the  idea  of  Sam's  appearance  as  a 
witness.     "What  course  do  we  pursue  ?" 

"  We  have  only  one  to  adopt,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Perker  ; 
"  cross-examine  the  witnesses  ;  trust  to  Snubbing  eloquence  ; 
throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  the  judge  ;  throw  ourselves  on  the 


"  And  suppose  the  verdict  is  against  me  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

Mr.  Perker  smiled,  took  a  very  long  pinch  of  snuff,  stirred 
the  fire,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  remained  expressively 
silent. 

"You  mean  that  in  that  case  I  must  pay  the  damages?"" 
said  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  watched  this  telegraphic  answer 
with  considerable  sternness. 

Perker  gave  the  fire  another  very  unnecessary  poke,  and  said 
"  I  am  afraid  so."* 

"  Then  I  beg  to  announce  to  you,  my  unalterable  determina- 
tion to  pay  no  damages  whatever,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  most 
emphatically.  "  None,  Perker.  Not  a  pound,  not  a  penny,  of 
my  money,  shall  find  its  way  into  the  pockets  of  Dodson  and 
Fogg.  That  is  my  deliberate  and  irrevocable  determination." 
Mr.  Pickwick  gave  a  heavy  blow  on  the  table  before  him,  in 
confirmation  of  the  irrevocability  of  his  intention. 

"  Very  well,  my  dear  sir,  very  well,"  said  Perker.  "  You 
know  best,  of  course." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick  hastily.  "  Where  does 
Serjeant  Snubbin  live?" 

"In  Lincoln's  Inn  Old  Square,"  replied  Perker. 

"I  should  like  to  see  him,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  See  Serjeant  Snubbin,  my  dear  sir  !  "  rejoined  Perker,  in 
utter  amazement.  "  Pooh,  pooh,  my  dear  sir,  impossible.  See 
Serjeant  Snubbin  !  Bless  you,  my  dear  sir,  such  a  thing  was 
never  heard  of,  without  a  consultation  fee  being  previously 
paid,  and  a  consultation  fixed.  It  couldn't  be  done,  my  dear 
sir  ;  it  couldn't  be  done." 

Mr.  Pickwick,  however,  had  made  up  his  mind  not  only 


WITH  THE  SERJEANTS  CLERK.  27 

that  it  could  be  done,  but  that  it  should  be  done ;  and  the 
consequence  was,  that  within  ten  minutes  after  he  had  received 
the  assurance  that  the  thing  was  impossible,  he  was  conducted 
by  his  solicitor  into  the  outer  office  of  the  great  Serjeant 
Snubbin  himself. 

It  was  an  uncarpeted  room  of  tolerable  dimensions,  with  a 
large  writing-table  drawn  up  near  the  fire :  the  baize  top  of 
which  had  long  since  lost  all  claim  to  its  original  hue  of 
green,  and  had  gradually  grown  grey  with  dust  and  age, 
except  where  all  traces  of  its  natural  colour  were  obliterated 
by  ink-stains.  Upon  the  table  were  numerous  little  bundles  of 
papers  tied  with  red  tape ;  and  behind  it,  sat  an  elderly  clerk, 
whose  sleek  appearance,  and  heavy  gold  watch-chain,  presented 
imposing  indications  of  the  extensive  and  lucrative  practice 
of  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin. 

"Is  the  Serjeant  in  his  room,  Mr.  Mallard?"  inquired 
Perker,  offering  his  box  with  all  imaginable  courtesy. 

"Yes,  he  is,'1  was  the  reply,  "but  he's  very  busy.  Look 
here ;  not  an  opinion  given  yet,  on  any  one  of  these  cases ;  and 
an  expedition  fee  paid  with  all  of  'em.11  The  clerk  smiled  as 
he  said  this,  and  inhaled  the  pinch  of  snuff  with  a  zest  which 
seemed  to  be  compounded  of  a  fondness  for  snuff  and  a 
relish  for  fees. 

"Something  like  practice  that,"  said  Perker. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  barrister's  clerk,  producing  his  own  box,  and 
offering  it  with  the  greatest  cordiality ;  "  and  the  best  of  it 
is,  that  as  nobody  alive  except  myself  can  read  the  Serjeant's 
writing,  they  are  obliged  to  wait  for  the  opinions,  when  he 
has  given  them,  till  I  have  copied  'em,  ha — ha — ha ! " 

"  Which  makes  good  for  we  know  who,  besides  the  Serjeant, 
and  draws  a  little  more  out  of  the  clients,  eh  ? "  said  Perker ; 
"  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! "  At  this  the  Serjeant's  clerk  laughed  again ; 
not  a  noisy  boisterous  laugh,  but  a  silent,  internal  chuckle, 
which  Mr.  Pickwick  disliked  to  hear.  When  a  man  bleeds 
inwardly,  it  is  a  dangerous  thing  for  himself;  but  when  he 
laughs  inwardly,  it  bodes  no  good  to  other  people. 


28  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  You  haven't  made  me  out  that  little  list  of  the  fees  that 
I'm  in  your  debt,  have  you?"  said  Perker. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"I  wish  you  would,"  said  Perker.  "Let  me  have  them, 
and  ril  send  you  a  cheque.  But  I  suppose  you're  too  busy 
pocketing  the  ready  money,  to  think  of  the  debtors,  eh  ?  ha, 
ha,  ha ! "  This  sally  seemed  to  tickle  the  clerk  amazingly, 
and  he  once  more  enjoyed  a  little  quiet  laugh  to  himself. 

"But,  Mr.  Mallard,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Perker,  suddenly 
recovering  his  gravity,  and  drawing  the  great  man's  great 
man  into  a  corner,  by  the  lappel  of  his  coat;  "you  must 
persuade  the  Serjeant  to  see  me,  and  my  client  here." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  clerk,  "  that's  not  bad  either.  See 
the  Serjeant !  come,  that's  too  absurd."  Notwithstanding 
the  absurdity  of  the  proposal,  however,  the  clerk  allowed 
himself  to  be  gently  drawn  beyond  the  hearing  of  Mr.  Pick- 
wick; and  after  a  short  conversation  conducted  in  whispers, 
walked  softly  down  a  little  dark  passage,  and  disappeared 
into  the  legal  luminary's  sanctum :  whence  he  shortly  returned 
on  tiptoe,  and  informed  Mr.  Perker  and  Mr.  Pickwick  that 
the  Serjeant  had  been  prevailed  upon,  in  violation  of  all  estab- 
lished rules  and  customs,  to  admit  them  at  once. 

Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin  was  a  lantern-faced,  sallow-com- 
plexioned  man,  of  about  five-and-forty,  or — as  the  novels  say 
— he  might  be  fifty.  He  had  that  dull-looking  boiled  eye 
which  is  often  to  be  seen  in  the  heads  of  people  who  have 
applied  themselves  during  many  years  to  a  weary  and  laborious 
course  of  study;  and  which  would  have  been  sufficient,  with- 
out the  additional  eye-glass  which  dangled  from  a  broad  black 
riband  round  his  neck,  to  warn  a  stranger  that  he  was  very 
near-sighted.  His  hair  was  thin  and  weak,  which  was  partly 
attributable  to  his  having  never  devoted  much  time  to  its 
arrangement,  and  partly  to  his  having  worn  for  five-and-twenty 
years  the  forensic  wig  which  hung  on  a  block  beside  him.  The 
marks  of  hair-powder  on  his  coat-collar,  and  the  ill-washed 
and  worse  tied  white  handkerchief  round  his  throat,  showed 


WITH  THE   SERJEANT.  29 

that  he  had  not  found  leisure  since  he  left  the  court  to  make 
any  alteration  in  his  dress :  while  the  slovenly  style  of  the 
remainder  of  his  costume  warranted  the  inference  that  his 
personal  appearance  would  not  have  been  very  much  improved 
if  he  had.  Books  of  practice,  heaps  of  papers,  and  opened 
letters,  were  scattered  over  the  table,  without  any  attempt 
at  order  or  arrangement ;  the  furniture  of  the  room  was  old 
and  ricketty ;  the  doors  of  the  book-case  were  rotting  in  their 
hinges;  the  dust  flew  out  from  the  carpet  in  little  clouds  at 
every  step ;  the  blinds  were  yellow  with  age  and  dirt ;  the 
state  of  everything  in  the  room  showed,  with  a  clearness  not 
to  be  mistaken,  that  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin  was  far  too  much 
occupied  with  his  professional  pursuits  to  take  any  great 
heed  or  regard  of  his  personal  comforts. 

The  Serjeant  was  writing  when  his  clients  entered;  he 
bowed  abstractedly  when  Mr.  Pickwick  was  introduced  by 
his  solicitor ;  and  then,  motioning  them  to  a  seat,  put  his  pen 
carefully  in  the  inkstand,  nursed  his  left  leg,  and  waited  to 
be  spoken  to. 

"  Mr.  Pickwick  is  the  defendant  in  Bardell  and  Pickwick, 
Serjeant  Snubbing  said  Perker. 

"I  am  retained  in  that,  am  I?"  said  the  Serjeant. 

"You  are,  sir,'1  replied  Perker. 

The  Serjeant  nodded  his  head,  and  waited  for  something 
else. 

"Mr.  Pickwick  was  anxious  to  call  upon  you,  Serjeant 
Snubbin,"  said  Perker,  "to  state  to  you,  before  you  entered 
upon  the  case,  that  he  denies  there  being  any  ground  or 
pretence  whatever  for  the  action  against  him ;  and  that  unless 
he  came  into  court  with  clean  hands,  and  without  the  most 
conscientious  conviction  that  he  was  right  in  resisting  the 
plaintiffs  demand,  he  would  not  be  there  at  all.  I  believe 
I  state  your  views  correctly ;  do  I  not,  my  dear  sir  ? "  said 
the  little  man,  turning  to  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Quite  so,"  replied  that  gentleman. 

Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin  unfolded  his  glasses,  raised  them  to 


30  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

his  eyes ;  and,  after  looking  at  Mr.  Pickwick  for  a  few  seconds 
with  great  curiosity,  turned  to  Mr.  Perker,  and  said,  smiling 
slightly  as  he  spoke  : 

"  Has  Mr.  Pickwick  a  strong  case  ?  " 

The  attorney  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Do  you  purpose  calling  witnesses  ? " 

"No." 

The  smile  on  the  Serjeant's  countenance  became  more 
defined ;  he  rocked  his  leg  with  increased  violence ;  and, 
throwing  himself  back  in  his  easy-chair,  coughed  dubiously. 

These  tokens  of  the  Serjeant's  presentiments  on  the  subject, 
slight  as  they  were,  were  not  lost  on  Mr.  Pickwick.  He 
settled  the  spectacles,  through  which  he  had  attentively 
regarded  such  demonstrations  of  the  barrister's  feelings  as  he 
had  permitted  himself  to  exhibit,  more  firmly  on  his  nose ; 
and  said  with  great  energy,  and  in  utter  disregard  of  all  Mr, 
Perker's  admonitory  winkings  and  frownings; 

"  My  wishing  to  wait  upon  you,  for  such  a  purpose  as  this, 
sir,  appears,  I  have  no  doubt,  to  a  gentleman  who  sees  so  much 
of  these  matters  as  you  must  necessarily  do,  a  very  extraordinary 
circumstance."" 

The  Serjeant  tried  to  look  gravely  at  the  fire,  but  the  smile 
came  back  again. 

"  Gentlemen  of  your  profession,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Pickwick, 
"  see  the  worst  side  of  human  nature.  All  its  disputes,  all 
its  ill-will  and  bad  blood,  rise  up  before  you.  You  know 
from  your  experience  of  juries  (I  mean  no  disparagement  to 
you,  or  them)  how  much  depends  upon  effect :  and  you  are 
apt  to  attribute  to  others,  a  desire  to  use,  for  purposes  of 
deception  and  self-interest,  the  very  instruments  which  you, 
in  pure  honesty  and  honour  of  purpose,  and  with  a  laudable 
desire  to  do  your  utmost  for  your  client,  know  the  temper  and 
worth  of  so  well,  from  constantly  employing  them  yourselves. 
I  really  believe  that  to  this  circumstance  may  be  attributed 
the  vulgar  but  very  general  notion  of  your  being,  as  a  body, 
suspicious,  distrustful,  and  over-cautious.  Conscious  as  I  am. 


MR.   PHUNKY.  31 

sir,  of  the  disadvantage  of  making  such  a  declaration  to  you, 
under  such  circumstances,  I  have  come  here,  because  I  wish 
you  distinctly  to  understand,  as  my  friend  Mr.  Perker  has 
said,  that  I  am  innocent  of  the  falsehood  laid  to  my  charge ; 
and  although  I  am  very  well  aware  of  the  inestimable  value 
of  your  assistance,  sir,  I  must  beg  to  add,  that  unless  you 
sincerely  believe  this,  I  would  rather  be  deprived  of  the  aid 
of  your  talents  than  have  the  advantage  of  them." 

Long  before  the  close  of  this  address,  which  we  are  bound 
to  say  was  of  a  very  prosy  character  for  Mr.  Pickwick,  the 
Serjeant  had  relapsed  into  a  state  of  abstraction.  After  some 
minutes,  however,  during  which  he  had  reassumed  his  pen,  he 
appeared  to  be  again  aware  of  the  presence  of  his  clients; 
raising  his  head  from  the  paper,  he  said,  rather  snappishly, 

"  Who  is  with  me  in  this  case  ? " 

"Mr.  Phunky,  Serjeant  Snubbin,"  replied  the  attorney. 

"Phunky,  Phunky,"  said  the  Serjeant,  "I  never  heard  the 
name  before.  He  must  be  a  very  young  man."" 

"  Yes,  he  is  a  very  young  man,"  replied  the  attorney.  "  He 
was  only  called  the  other  day.  Let  me  see — he  has  not  been 
at  the  Bar  eight  years  yet." 

"Ah,  I  thought  not,"  said  the  Sergeant,  in  that  sort  of 
pitying  tone  in  which  ordinary  folks  would  speak  of  a  very 
helpless  little  child.  "Mr.  Mallard,  send  round  to  Mr.  — 
Mr.  — ." 

"  Phunky's — Holborn  Court,  Gray's  Inn,"  interposed  Perker. 
(Holborn  Court,  by  the  bye,  is  South  Square  now).  "Mr. 
Phunky,  and  say  I  should  be  glad  if  he'd  step  here,  a  moment.11 

Mr.  Mallard  departed  to  execute  his  commission ;  and 
Serjeant  Snubbin  relapsed  into  abstraction  until  Mr.  Phunky 
himself  was  introduced. 

Although  an  infant  barrister,  he  was  a  full-grown  man.  He 
had  a  very  nervous  manner,  and  a  painful  hesitation  in  his 
speech ;  it  did  not  appear  to  be  a  natural  defect,  but  seemed 
rather  the  result  of  timidity,  arising  from  the  consciousness  of 
being  "kept  down"  by  want  of  means,  or  interest,  or 


32  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

connexion,  or  impudence,  as  the  case  might  be.  He  was 
overawed  by  the  Serjeant,  and  profoundly  courteous  to  the 
attorney. 

"I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  before,  Mr. 
Phunky,"  said  Serjeant  Snubbin,  with  haughty  condescension. 

Mr.  Phunky  bowed.  He  had  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
Serjeant,  and  of  envying  him  too,  with  all  a  poor  man's  envy, 
for  eight  years  and  a  quarter. 

"You  are  with  me  in  this  case,  I  understand ? "  said  the 
Serjeant. 

If  Mr.  Phunky  had  been  a  rich  man,  he  would  have  instantly 
sent  for  his  clerk  to  remind  him ;  if  he  had  been  a  wise  one, 
he  would  have  applied  his  fore-finger  to  his  forehead,  and 
endeavoured  to  recollect,  whether,  in  the  multiplicity  of  his 
engagements  he  had  undertaken  this  one,  or  not;  but  as  he 
was  neither  rich  nor  wise  (in  this  sense  at  all  events)  he 
turned  red,  and  bowed. 

"  Have  you  read  the  papers,  Mr.  Phunky  ? "  inquired  the 
Serjeant. 

Here  again,  Mr.  Phunky  should  have  professed  to  have  for- 
gotten all  about  the  merits  of  the  case;  but  as  he  had  read 
such  papers  as  had  been  laid  before  him  in  the  course  of  the 
action,  and  had  thought  of  nothing  else,  waking  or  sleeping, 
throughout  the  two  months  during  which  he  had  been  retained 
as  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin's  junior,  he  turned  a  deeper  red, 
and  bowed  again. 

"This  is  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  the  Serjeant,  waving  his  pen 
in  the  direction  in  which  that  gentleman  was  standing. 

Mr.  Phunky  bowed  to  Mr.  Pickwick  with  a  reverence  which 
a  first  client  must  ever  awaken ;  and  again  inclined  his  head 
towards  his  leader. 

"Perhaps  you  will  take  Mr.  Pickwick  away,"  said  the 
Serjeant,  "and — and — and — hear  anything  Mr.  Pickwick  may 
wish  to  communicate.  We  shall  have  a  consultation,  of 
course."  With  this  hint  that  he  had  been  interrupted  quite 
long  enough,  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin,  who  had  been  gradually 


A  LONG  CONFERENCE.  33 

growing  more  and  more  abstracted,  applied  hie  glass  to  his 
eyes  for  an  instant,  bowed  slightly  round,  and  was  once  more 
deeply  immersed  in  the  case  before  him :  which  arose  out  of 
an  interminable  lawsuit,  originating  in  the  act  of  an  individual, 
deceased  a  century  or  so  ago,  who  had  stopped  up  a  pathway 
leading  from  some  place  which  nobody  ever  came  from,  to 
some  other  place  which  nobody  ever  went  to. 

Mr.  Phunky  would  not  hear  of  passing  through  any  door 
until  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  solicitor  had  passed  through  before 
him,  so  it  was  some  time  before  they  got  into  the  Square; 
and  when  they  did  reach  it,  they  walked  up  and  down,  and 
held  a  long  conference,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  it  was  a 
very  difficult  matter  to  say  how  the  verdict  would  go ;  that 
nobody  could  presume  to  calculate  on  the  issue  of  an  action ; 
that  it  was  very  lucky  they  had  prevented  the  other  party 
from  getting  Serjeant  Snubbin;  and  other  topics  of  doubt 
and  consolation,  common  in  such  a  position  of  affairs. 

Mr.  Weller  was  then  roused  by  his  master  from  a  sweet 
sleep  of  an  hour's  duration ;  and,  bidding  adieu  to  Lowten, 
they  returned  to  the  City. 


VOL.   II. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

DESCRIBES,  FAR  MORE  FULLY  THAN  THE  COURT  NEWSMAN  EVER 
DID,  A  BACHELOR'S  PARTY,  GIVEN  BY  MR.  BOB  SAWYER  AT 
HIS  LODGINGS  IN  THE  BOROUGH. 

THERE  is  a  repose  about  Lant  Street,  in  the  borough,  which 
sheds  ft  gentle  melancholy  upon  the  soul.  There  are  always 
a  good  many  houses  to  let  in  the  street :  it  is  a  bye-street 
too,  and  its  dulness  is  soothing.  A  house  in  Lant  Street 
would  not  come  within  the  denomination  of  a  first-rate 
residence,  in  the  strict  acceptation  of  the  term ;  but  it  is  a 
most  desirable  spot  nevertheless.  If  a  man  wished  to  abstract 
himself  from  the  world — to  remove  himself  from  within  the 
reach  of  temptation — to  place  himself  beyond  the  possibility 
of  any  inducement  to  look  out  of  the  window — he  should  by 
all  means  go  to  Lant  Street. 

In  this  happy  retreat  are  colonised  a  few  clear-starchers,  a 
sprinkling  of  journeymen  bookbinders,  one  or  two  prison 
agents  for  the  Insolvent  Court,  several  small  housekeepers 
who  are  employed  in  the  Docks,  a  handful  of  mantua-makers, 
and  a  seasoning  of  jobbing  tailors.  The  majority  of  the 
inhabitants  either  direct  their  energies  to  the  letting  of 
furnished  apartments,  or  devote  themselves  to  the  healthful 
and  invigorating  pursuit  of  mangling.  The  chief  features  in 
the  still  life  of  the  street  are  green  shutters,  lodging-bills, 
brass  door-plates,  and  bell-handles ;  the  principal  specimens  of 
animated  nature,  the  pot-boy,  the  muffin  youth,  and  the 


MR.   SAWYER  EXPECTS  COMPANY.  35 

baked-potato  man.  The  population  is  migratory,  usually 
disappearing  on  the  verge  of  quarter-day,  and  generally  by 
night.  His  Majesty's  revenues  are  seldom  collected  in  this 
happy  valley;  the  rents  are  dubious;  and  the  water  com- 
munication is  very  frequently  cut  off. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  embellished  one  side  of  the  fire,  in  his 
first-floor  front,  early  on  the  evening  for  which  he  had  invited 
Mr.  Pickwick ;  and  Mr.  Ben  Allen  the  other.  The  preparations 
for  the  reception  of  visitors  appeared  to  be  completed.  The 
umbrellas  in  the  passage  had  been  heaped  into  the  little 
corner  outside  the  back-parlour  door;  the  bonnet  and  shawl 
of  the  landlady's  servant  had  been  removed  from  the  bannisters ; 
there  were  not  more  than  two  pail's  of  pattens  on  the  street- 
door  mat,  and  a  kitchen  candle,  with  a  very  long  snuff,  burnt 
cheerfully  on  the  ledge  of  the  staircase  window.  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  had  himself  purchased  the  spirits  at  a  wine  vaults  in 
High  Street,  and  had  returned  home  preceding  the  bearer 
thereof,  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  their  delivery  at  the 
wrong  house.  The  punch  was  ready-made  in  a  red  pan  in 
the  bed-room ;  a  little  table,  covered  with  a  green  baize  cloth, 
had  been  borrowed  from  the  parlour,  to  play  at  cards  on ; 
and  the  glasses  of  the  establishment,  together  with  those 
which  had  been  borrowed  for  the  occasion  from  the  public- 
house,  were"  all  drawn  up  in  a  tray,  which  was  deposited  on 
the  landing  outside  the  door. 

Notwithstanding  the  highly  satisfactory  nature  of  all  these 
arrangements,  there  was  a  cloud  on  the  countenance  of  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer,  as  he  sat  by  the  fireside.  There  was  a  sympathising 
expression,  too,  in  the  features  of  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  as  he  gazed 
intently  on  the  coals ;  and  a  tone  of  melancholy  in  his  voice, 
as  he  said,  after  a  long  silence : 

"  Well,  it  is  unlucky  she  should  have  taken  it  in  her  head 
to  turn  sour,  just  on  this  occasion.  She  might  at  least  have 
waited  till  to-morrow.1" 

"That's  her  malevolence,  that's  her  malevolence,"  returned 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  vehemently.  "  She  says  that  if  I  can  afford 


86  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

to  give  a  party  I  ought  to  be  able  to  pay  her  confounded 
4  little  bill."1 

"  How  long  has  it  been  running  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Ben  Allen. 
A  bill,  by  the  bye,  is  the  most  extraordinary  locomotive  engine 
that  the  genius  of  man  ever  produced.  It  would  keep  on 
running  during  the  longest  lifetime,  without  ever  once  stopping 
of  its  own  accord. 

"Only  a  quarter,  and  a  month  or  so,"  replied  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer. 

Ben  Allen  coughed  hopelessly,  and  directed  a  searching  look 
between  the  two  top  bars  of  the  stove. 

"  It'll  be  a  deuced  unpleasant  thing  if  she  takes  it  into  her 
head  to  let  out,  when  those  fellows  are  here,  won't  it?11  said 
Mr.  Ben  Allen  at  length. 

"Horrible,1'  replied  Bob  Sawyer,  "horrible." 

A  low  tap  was  heard  at  the  room  door.  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
looked  expressively  at  his  friend,  and  bade  the  tapper  come 
in  ;  whereupon  a  dirty  slipshod  girl  in  black  cotton  stockings, 
who  might  have  passed  for  the  neglected  daughter  of  a 
superannuated  dustman  in  very  reduced  circumstances,  thrust 
in  her  head,  and  said, 

"Please,  Mister  Sawyer,  Missis  Raddle  wants  to  speak  to 


Before  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  could  return  any  answer,  the  girl 
suddenly  disappeared  with  a  jerk,  as  if  somebody  had  given 
her  a  violent  pull  behind  ;  this  mysterious  exit  was  no  sooner 
accomplished,  than  there  was  another  tap  at  the  door  —  a 
smart  pointed  tap,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  Here  I  am,  and  in 
I'm  coming." 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  glanced  at  his  friend  with  a  look  of  abject 
apprehension,  and  once  more  cried  "  Come  in.1' 

The  permission  was  not  at  all  necessary,  for,  before  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  had  uttered  the  words,  a  little  fierce  woman  bounced 
into  the  room,  all  in  a  tremble  with  passion,  and  pale  with  rage. 

"Now,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  little  fierce  woman,  trying 
to  appear  very  calm,  "if  you'll  have  the  kindness  to  settle 


MRS.   RADDLE  APPLIES  FOR  RENT.          37 

that  little  bill  of  mine  Fll  thank  you,  because  Fve  got  my  rent 
to  pay  this  afternoon,  and  my  landlord's  a  waiting  below  now.'* 
Here  the  little  woman  rubbed  her  hands,  and  looked  steadily 
over  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  head,  at  the  wall  behind  him. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  put  you  to  any  inconvenience,  Mrs. 
Raddle,"  said  Bob  Sawyer,  deferentially,  "but ' 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  any  inconvenience,"  replied  the  little  woman, 
with  a  shrill  titter.  "I  didn't  want  it  particular  before  to- 
day; leastways,  as  it  has  to  go  to  my  landlord  directly,  it 
was  as  well  for  you  to  keep  it  as  me.  You  promised  me  this 
afternoon,  Mr.  Sawyer,  and  every  gentleman  as  has  ever  lived 
here,  has  kept  his  word,  sir,  as  of  course  anybody  as  calls 
himself  a  gentleman,  does."  Mrs.  Raddle  tossed  her  head,  bit 
her  lips,  rubbed  her  hands  harder,  and  looked  at  the  wall 
more  steadily  than  ever.  It  was  plain  to  see,  as  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  remarked  in  a  style  of  eastern  allegory  on  a  subse- 
quent occasion,  that  she  was  "  getting  the  steam  up." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Mrs.  Raddle,"  said  Bob  Sawyer  with  all 
imaginable  humility,  "  but  the  fact  is,  that  I  have  been 
disappointed  in  the  City  to-day." — Extraordinary  place  that 
City.  An  astonishing  number  of  men  always  are  getting 
disappointed  there. 

"Well,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  planting  herself 
firmly  on  a  purple  cauliflower  in  the  Kidderminster  carpet, 
"and  what's  that  to  me,  sir?" 

"I — I — have  no  doubt,  Mrs.  Raddle,"  said  Bob  Sawyer, 
blinking  this  last  question,  "  that  before  the  middle  of  next 
week  we  shall  be  able  to  set  ourselves  quite  square,  and  go 
on,  on  a  better  system,  afterwards." 

This  was  all  Mrs.  Raddle  wanted.  She  had  bustled  up  to 
the  apartment  of  the  unlucky  Bob  Sawyer,  so  bent  upon 
going  into  a  passion,  that,  in  all  probability,  payment  would 
have  rather  disappointed  her  than  otherwise.  She  was  in 
excellent  order  for  a  little  relaxation  of  the  kind  :  having  just 
exchanged  a  few  introductory  compliments  with  Mr.  R.  in 
the  front  kitchen. 


38  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Mr.  Sawyer,*  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  elevating 
her  voice  for  the  information  of  the  neighbours,  "do  you 
suppose  that  I'm  a-going  day  after  day  to  let  a  fellar  occupy 
ray  lodgings  as  never  thinks  of  paying  his  rent,  nor  even  the 
very  money  laid  out  for  the  fresh  butter  and  lump  sugar 
that's  bought  for  his  breakfast,  and  the  very  milk  that's  took 
in,  at  the  street  door?  Do  you  suppose  a  hard-working  and 
industrious  woman  as  has  lived  in  this  street  for  twenty  year 
(ten  year  over  the  way,  and  nine  year  and  three  quarter  in 
this  very  house)  has  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  work  herself 
to  death  after  a  parcel  of  lazy  idle  fellars,  that  are  always 
smoking  and  drinking,  and  lounging,  when  they  ought  to  be 
glad  to  turn  their  hands  to  anything  that  would  help  'em  to 
pay  their  bills  ?  Do  you " 

"My  good  soul,"  interposed  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen, 
soothingly. 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  keep  your  observashuns  to  yourself, 
sir,  I  beg,"  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  suddenly  arresting  the  rapid 
torrent  of  her  speech,  and  addressing  the  third  party  with 
impressive  slowness  and  solemnity.  "I  am  not  aweer,  sir, 
that  you  have  any  right  to  address  your  conversation  to  me. 
I  don't  think  I  let  these  apartments  to  you,  sir." 

"No,  you  certainly  did  not,"  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  responded  Mrs.  Raddle,  with  lofty 
politeness.  "  Then  p'raps,  sir,  you'll  confine  yourself  to  breaking 
the  arms  and  legs  of  the  poor  people  in  the  hospitals,  and 
keep  yourself  to  yourself,  sir,  or  there  may  be  some  persons 
here  as  will  make  you,  sir." 

"But  you  are  such  an  unreasonable  woman,"  remonstrated 
Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"  I  beg  your  parding,  young  man,"  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  in  a 
cold  perspiration  of  anger.  "  But  will  you  have  the  goodness 
just  to  call  me  that  again,  sir?" 

"I  didn't  make  use  of  the  word  in  any  invidious  sense, 
ma'am,"  replied  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  growing  somewhat 
uneasy  on  his  own  account. 


MRS.  RADDLE   RELIEVES   HER  MIND.        39 

•*  I  beg  your  parding,  young  man,1'  demanded  Mrs.  Raddle 
in  a  louder  and  more  imperative  tone.  "  But  who  do  you 
call  a  woman  ?  Did  you  make  that  remark  to  me,  sir  ? " 

"  Why,  bless  my  heart ! "  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Did  you  apply  that  name  to  me,  I  ask  of  you,  sir?" 
interrupted  Mrs.  Raddle,  with  intense  fierceness,  throwing 
the  door  wide  open. 

"  Why,  of  course  I  did,"  replied  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Yes,  of  course  you  did,"  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  backing 
gradually  to  the  door,  and  raising  her  voice  to  its  loudest 
pitch,  for  the  special  behoof  of  Mr.  Raddle  in  the  kitchen. 
"  Yes,  of  course  you  did !  And  everybody  knows  that  they 
may  safely  insult  me  in  my  own  'ouse  while  my  husband  sits 
sleeping  down  stairs,  and  taking  no  more  notice  than  if  I  was 
a  dog  in  the  streets.  He  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself  (here 
Mrs.  Raddle  sobbed)  to  allow  his  wife  to  be  treated  in  this 
way  by  a  parcel  of  young  cutters  and  carvers  of  live  people's 
bodies,  that  disgraces  the  lodgings  (another  sob),  and  leaving 
her  exposed  to  all  manner  of  abuse;  a  base,  faint-hearted, 
timorous  wretch,  that's  afraid  to  come  up  stairs,  and  face  the 
ruffinly  creatures — that's  afraid — that's  afraid  to  come  ! " 
Mrs.  Raddle  paused  to  listen  whether  the  repetition  of  the 
taunt  had  roused  her  better  half;  and,  finding  that  it  had 
not  been  successful,  proceeded  to  descend  the  stairs  with  sobs 
innumerable :  when  there  came  a  loud  double  knock  at  the 
street  door :  whereupon  she  burst  into  an  hysterical  fit  of 
weeping,  accompanied  with  dismal  moans,  which  was  prolonged 
until  the  knock  had  been  repeated  six  times,  when,  in  an 
uncontrollable  burst  of  mental  agony,  she  threw  down  all  the 
umbrellas,  and  disappeared  into  the  back  parlour,  closing  the 
door  after  her  with  an  awful  crash. 

"  Does  Mr.  Sawyer  live  here  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  when 
the  door  was  opened. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  girl,  "  first  floor.  It's  the  door  straight 
afore  you,  when  you  gets  to  the  top  of  the  stairs."  Having 
given  this  instruction,  the  handmaid,  who  had  been  brought 


40  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

up  among  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  Southwark,  disappeared, 
with  the  candle  in  her  hand,  down  the  kitchen  stairs :  perfectly 
satisfied  that  she  had  done  everything  that  could  possibly  be 
required  of  her  under  the  circumstances. 

Mr.  Snodgrass,  who  entered  last,  secured  the  street  door, 
after  several  ineffectual  efforts,  by  putting  up  the  chain ;  and 
the  friends  stumbled  up  stairs,  where  they  were  received  by 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  had  been  afraid  to  go  down,  lest  he 
should  be  waylaid  by  Mrs.  Raddle. 

"How  are  you?"  said  the  discomfited  student.  "Glad  to 
see  you, — take  care  of  the  glasses."  This  caution  was  addressed 
to  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  put  his  hat  in  the  tray. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"Don't  mention  it,  don't  mention  it,"  said  Bob  Sawyer. 
"  I'm  rather  confined  for  room  here,  but  you  must  put  up 
with  all  that,  when  you  come  to  see  a  young  bachelor.  Walk 
in.  You've  seen  this  gentleman  before,  I  think?"  Mr. 
Pickwick  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  and  his 
friends  followed  his  example.  They  had  scarcely  taken  their 
seats  when  there  was  another  double  knock. 

"  I  hope  that's  Jack  Hopkins ! "  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 
"  Hush.  Yes,  it  is.  Come  up,  Jack ;  come  up." 

A  heavy  footstep  was  heard  upon  the  stairs,  and  Jack 
Hopkins  presented  himself.  He  wore  a  black  velvet  waistcoat, 
with  thunder-and-lightning  buttons ;  and  a  blue  striped  shirt, 
with  a  white  false  collar. 

"You're  late,  Jack?"  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Been  detained  at  Bartholomew's,"  replied  Hopkins. 

"Anything  new?" 

"No,  nothing  particular.  Rather  a  good  accident  brought 
into  the  casualty  ward." 

"  What  was  that,  sir  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Only  a  man  fallen  out  of  a  four  pair  of  stairs'  window ; 
— but  it's  a  very  fair  case — very  fair  case  indeed." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  patient  is  in  a  fair  way  to  recover  ?  " 
inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 


ANECDOTE   OF  A  NECKLACE.  41 

"No,"  replied  Hopkins,  carelessly.  "No,  I  should  rather 
say  he  wouldn't.  There  must  be  a  splendid  operation  though, 
to-morrow — magnificent  sight  if  Slasher  does  it."" 

"You  consider  Mr.  Slasher  a  good  operator?"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Best  alive,"  replied  Hopkins.  "Took  a  boy's  leg  out 
of  the  socket  last  week — boy  ate  five  apples  and  a  gingerbread 
cake — exactly  two  minutes  after  it  was  all  over,  boy  said  he 
wouldn't  lie  there  to  be  made  game  of,  and  he'd  tell  his 
mother  if  they  didn't  begin." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  astonished. 

"  Pooh !  That's  nothing,  that  ain't,"  said  Jack  Hopkins. 
"  Is  it,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  replied  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  By  the  bye,  Bob,"  said  Hopkins,  with  a  scarcely  perceptible 
glance  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  attentive  face,  "  we  had  a  curious 
accident  last  night.  A  child  was  brought  in,  who  had 
swallowed  a  necklace." 

"  Swallowed  what,  sir  ? "  interrupted  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"A  necklace,"  replied  Jack  Hopkins.  "Not  all  at  once, 
you  know,  that  would  be  too  much — you  couldn't  swallow 
that,  if  the  child  did— eh,  Mr.  Pickwick,  ha!  ha!"  Mr. 
Hopkins  appeared  highly  gratified  with  his  own  pleasantry ; 
and  continued.  "No,  the  way  was  this.  Child's  parents 
were  poor  people  who  lived  in  a  court.  Child's  eldest  sister 
bought  a  necklace ;  common  necklace,  made  of  large  black 
wooden  beads.  Child,  being  fond  of  toys,  cribbed  the  necklace, 
hid  it,  played  with  it,  cut  the  string,  and  swallowed  a  bead. 
Child  thought  it  capital  fun,  went  back  next  day,  and 
swallowed  another  bead." 

"  Bless  my  heart,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  what  a  dreadful 
thing  !  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir.  Go  on." 

"  Next  day,  child  swallowed  two  beads ;  the  day  after  that, 
he  treated  himself  to  three,  and  so  on,  till  in  a  week's  time 
he  had  got  through  the  necklace — five-and-twenty  beads  in 
all.  The  sister,  who  was  an  industrious  girl,  and  seldom 


42  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

treated  herself  to  a  bit  of  finery,  cried  her  eyes  out,  at  the 
loss  of  the  necklace ;  looked  high  and  low  for  it ;  but,  I 
needn't  say,  didn't  find  it.  A  few  days  afterwards,  the  family 
were  at  dinner — baked  shoulder  of  mutton,  and  potatoes  under 
it — the  child,  who  wasn't  hungry,  was  playing  about  the 
room,  when  suddenly  there  was  heard  a  devil  of  a  noise,  like 
a  small  hail  storm.  'Don't  do  that,  my  boy,'  said  the  father. 
'  I  ain't  a  doin'  nothing,'  said  the  child.  '  Well,  don't  do  it 
again,'  said  the  father.  There  was  a  short  silence,  and  then 
the  noise  began  again,  worse  than  ever.  *  If  you  don't  mind 
what  I  say,  my  boy,'  said  the  father,  '  you'll  find  yourself  in 
bed,  in  something  less  than  a  pig's  whisper.'  He  gave  the 
child  a  shake  to  make  him  obedient,  and  such  a  rattling 
ensued  as  nobody  ever  heard  before.  'Why,  damme,  it's  in 
the  child ! '  said  the  father,  *  he's  got  the  croup  in  the  wrong 
place ! '  *  No  I  haven't,  father,'  said  the  child,  beginning  to 
cry,  *  it's  the  necklace ;  I  swallowed  it,  father.' — The  father 
caught  the  child  up,  and  ran  with  him  to  the  hospital :  the 
beads  in  the  boy's  stomach  rattling  all  the  way  with  the 
jolting;  and  the  people  looking  up  in  the  air,  and  down  in 
the  cellars,  to  see  where  the  unusual  sound  came  from.  He's 
in  the  hospital  now,"  said  Jack  Hopkins,  "and  he  makes 
such  a  devil  of  a  noise  when  he  walks  about,  that  they're 
obliged  to  muffle  him  in  a  watchman's  coat,  for  fear  he  should 
wake  the  patients  ! " 

"  That's  the  most  extraordinary  case  I  ever  heard  of,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick,  with  an  emphatic  blow  on  the  table. 

"Oh,  that's  nothing,"  said  Jack  Hopkins;  "is  it,  Bob?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"Very  singular  things  occur  in  our  profession,  I  can  assure 
you,  sir,"  said  Hopkins. 

"  So  I  should  be  disposed  to  imagine,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Another  knock  at  the  door,  announced  a  large-headed 
young  man  in  a  black  wig,  who  brought  with  him  a  scorbutic 
youth  in  a  long  stock.  The  next  comer  was  a  gentleman  in 
a  shirt  emblazoned  with  pink  anchors,  who  was  closely 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  SUPPER.  43 

followed  by  a  pale  youth  with  a  plated  watchguard.  The 
arrival  of  a  prim  personage  in  clean  linen  and  cloth  boots 
rendered  the  party  complete.  The  little  table  with  the  green 
baize  cover  was  wheeled  out ;  the  first  instalment  of  punch 
was  brought  in,  in  a  white  jug ;  and  the  succeeding  three 
hours  were  devoted  to  vingt-et-un  at  sixpence  a  dozen,  which 
was  only  once  interrupted  by  a  slight  dispute  between  the 
scorbutic  youth  and  the  gentleman  with  the  pink  anchors ;  in 
the  course  of  which,  the  scorbutic  youth  intimated  a  burning 
desire  to  pull  the  nose  of  the  gentleman  with  the  emblems  of 
hope :  in  reply  to  which,  that  individual  expressed  his  decided 
unwillingness  to  accept  of  any  "  sauce "  on  gratuitous  terms, 
either  from  the  irascible  young  gentleman  with  the  scorbutic 
countenance,  or  any  other  person  who  was  ornamented  with 
a  head. 

When  the  last  "  natural  *  had  been  declared,  and  the  profit 
and  loss  account  of  fish  and  sixpences  adjusted,  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  all  parties,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  rang  for  supper,  and  the 
visitors  squeezed  themselves  into  corners  while  it  was  getting 
ready. 

It  was  not  so  easily  got  ready  as  some  people  may  imagine. 
First  of  all,  it  was  necessary  to  awaken  the  girl,  who  had 
fallen  asleep  with  her  face  on  the  kitchen  table ;  this  took  a 
little  time,  and,  even  when  she  did  answer  the  bell,  another 
quarter  of  an  hour  was  consumed  in  fruitless  endeavours  to 
impart  to  her  a  faint  and  distant  glimmering  of  reason. 
The  man  to  whom  the  order  for  the  oysters  had  been  sent, 
had  not  been  told  to  open  them ;  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing 
to  open  an  oyster  with  a  limp  knife  or  a  two-pronged  fork ; 
and  very  little  was  done  in  this  way.  Very  little  of  the  beef 
was  done  either;  and  the  ham  (which  was  also  from  the 
German-sausage  shop  round  the  corner)  was  in  a  similar 
predicament.  However,  there  was  plenty  of  porter  in  a  tin 
can ;  and  the  cheese  went  a  great  way,  for  it  was  very  strong. 
So  upon  the  whole,  perhaps,  the  supper  was  quite  as  good 
as  such  matters  usually  are. 


44  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

After  supper,  another  jug  of  punch  was  put  upon  the 
table,  together  with  a  paper  of  cigars,  and  a  couple  of  bottles 
of  spirits.  Then,  there  was  an  awful  pause ;  and  this  awful 
pause  was  occasioned  by  a  very  common  occurrence  in  this 
sort  of  places,  but  a  very  embarrassing  one  notwithstanding. 

The  fact  is,  the  girl  was  washing  the  glasses.  The  estab- 
lishment boasted  four;  we  do  not  record  the  circumstance 
as  at  all  derogatory  to  Mrs.  Raddle,  for  there  never  was  a 
lodging-house  yet,  that  was  not  short  of  glasses.  The  land- 
lady's glasses  were  little  thin  blown  glass  tumblers,  and  those 
which  had  been  borrowed  from  the  public-house  were  great, 
dropsical,  bloated  articles,  each  supported  on  a  huge  gouty 
leg.  This  would  have  been  in  itself  sufficient  to  have  possessed 
the  company  with  the  real  state  of  affairs ;  but  the  young 
woman  of  all  work  had  prevented  the  possibility  of  any  mis- 
conception arising  in  the  mind  of  any  gentleman  upon  the 
subject,  by  forcibly  dragging  every  man's  glass  away,  long 
before  he  had  finished  his  beer,  and  audibly  stating,  despite 
the  winks  and  interruptions  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  that  it  was 
to  be  conveyed  down  stairs,  and  washed  forthwith. 

It  is  a  very  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  any  good.  The 
prim  man  in  the  cloth  boots,  who  had  been  unsuccessfully 
attempting  to  make  a  joke  during  the  whole  time  the  round 
game  lasted,  saw  his  opportunity,  and  availed  himself  of  it. 
The  instant  the  glasses  disappeared,  he  commenced  a  long 
story  about  a  great  public  character,  whose  name  he  had 
forgotten,  making  a  particularly  happy  reply  to  another 
eminent  and  illustrious  individual  whom  he  had  never  been 
able  to  identify.  He  enlarged  at  some  length  and  with  great 
minuteness  upon  divers  collateral  circumstances,  distantly 
connected  with  the  anecdote  in  hand,  but  for  the  life  of 
him  he  couldn't  recollect  at  that  precise  moment  what  the 
anecdote  was,  although  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  telling 
the  story  with  great  applause  for  the  last  ten  years. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  the  prim  man  in  the  cloth  boots,  "  it  is 
a  very  extraordinary  circumstance." 


DEMAND  FOR  WARM  WATER.  45 

"I  am  sorry  you  have  forgotten  it,"  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer, 
glancing  eagerly  at  the  door,  as  he  thought  he  heard  the 
noise  of  glasses  jingling;  "very  sorry." 

"So  am  I,"  responded  the  prim  man,  "because  I  know  it 
would  have  afforded  so  much  amusement.  Never  mind ;  I 
dare  say  I  shall  manage  to  recollect  it,  in  the  course  of  half- 
an-hour  or  so." 

The  prim  man  arrived  at  this  point,  just  as  the  glasses 
came  back,  when  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  had  been  absorbed 
in  attention  during  the  whole  time,  said  he  should  very  much 
like  to  hear  the  end  of  it,  for,  so  far  as  it  went,  it  was, 
without  exception,  the  very  best  story  he  had  ever  heard. 

The  sight  of  the  tumblers  restored  Bob  Sawyer  to  a 
degree  of  equanimity  which  he  had  not  possessed  since  his 
interview  with  his  landlady.  His  face  brightened  up,  and 
he  began  to  feel  quite  convivial. 

"Now,  Betsy,"  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  with  great  suavity, 
and  dispersing,  at  the  same  time,  the  tumultuous  little 
mob  of  glasses  the  girl  had  collected  in  the  centre  of 
the  table:  "now,  Betsy,  the  warm  water;  be  brisk,  there's 
a  good  girl." 

"You  can't  have  no  warm  water,"  replied  Betsy. 

"No  warm  water!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"No,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  shake  of  the  head  which 
expressed  a  more  decided  negative  than  the  most  copious 
language  could  have  conveyed.  "Missis  Raddle  said  you 
warn't  to  have  none." 

The  surprise  depicted  on  the  countenances  of  his  guests 
imparted  new  courage  to  the  host. 

"  Bring  up  the  warm  water  instantly — instantly  ! "  said  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer,  with  desperate  sternness. 

"No.  I  can't,"  replied  the  girl;  "Missis  Raddle  raked 
out  the  kitchen  fire  afore  she  went  to  bed,  and  locked  up 
the  kittle." 

"  Oh,  never  mind ;  never  mind.  Pray  don't  disturb  your- 
self about  such  a  trifle,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  observing  the 


46  THE  PICKWICK  CLUE. 

conflict  of  Bob  Sawyer's  passions,  as  depicted  in  his  counte- 
nance, "cold  water  will  do  very  well." 

"  Oh,  admirably,"  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"  My  landlady  is  subject  to  some  slight  attacks  of  mental 
derangement,"  remarked  Bob  Sawyer  with  a  ghastly  smile; 
"And  I  fear  I  must  give  her  warning." 

"No,  don't,"  said  Ben  Allen. 

"  I  fear  I  must,"  said  Bob  with  heroic  firmness.  "  Til  pay 
her  what  I  owe  her,  and  give  her  warning  to-morrow  morning." 
Poor  fellow !  how  devoutly  he  wished  he  could ! 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  heart-sickening  attempts  to  rally  under 
this  last  blow,  communicated  a  dispiriting  influence  to  the 
company,  the  greater  part  of  whom,  with  the  view  of  raising 
their  spirits,  attached  themselves  with  extra  cordiality  to  the 
cold  brandy  and  water,  the  first  perceptible  effects  of  which 
were  displayed  in  a  renewal  of  hostilities  between  the  scorbutic 
youth  and  the  gentleman  in  the  shirt.  The  belligerents 
vented  their  feelings  of  mutual  contempt,  for  some  time,  in 
a  variety  of  frownings  and  snortings,  until  at  last  the  scorbutic 
youth  felt  it  necessary  to  come  to  a  more  explicit  understand- 
ing on  the  matter;  when  the  following  clear  understanding 
took  place. 

"  Sawyer,"  said  the  scorbutic  youth,  in  a  loud  voice. 

"Well,  Noddy,"  replied  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"I  should  be  very  sorry,  Sawyer,"  said  Mr.  Noddy,  "to 
create  any  unpleasantness  at  any  friend's  table,  and  much  less 
at  yours,  Sawyer — very ;  but  I  must  take  this  opportunity 
of  informing  Mr.  Gunter  that  he  is  no  gentleman." 

"  And  /  should  be  very  sorry,  Sawyer,  to  create  any  disturb- 
ance in  the  street  in  which  you  reside,"  said  Mr.  Gunter, 
"  but  I'm  afraid  I  shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  alarming 
the  neighbours  by  throwing  the  person  who  has  just  spoken, 
out  o'  window." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Noddy. 

"What  I  say,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Gunter. 

"I  should  like  to  see  you  do  it,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Noddy. 


A  PERSONAL  MISUNDERSTANDING.          47 

"You  shall  feel  me  do  it  in  half  a  minute,  sir,"  replied  Mr. 
Gti  nter. 

"  I  request  that  you'll  favour  me  with  your  card,  sir,"  said 
Mr.  Noddy. 

"  Til  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Gunter. 

"Why  not,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Noddy. 

"  Because  you'll  stick  it  up  over  your  chimney-piece,  and 
delude  your  visitors  into  the  false  belief  that  a  gentleman 
has  been  to  see  you,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Gunter. 

"Sir,  a  friend  of  mine  shall  wait  on  you  in  the  morning," 
said  Mr.  Noddy. 

"  Sir,  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  caution,  and 
I'll  leave  particular  directions  with  the  servant  to  lock  up 
the  spoons,"  replied  Mr.  Gunter. 

At  this  point  the  remainder  of  the  guests  interposed,  and 
remonstrated  with  both  parties  on  the  impropriety  of  their 
conduct;  on  which  Mr.  Noddy  begged  to  state  that  his 
father  was  quite  as  respectable  as  Mr.  Gunter's  father;  to 
which  Mr.  Gunter  replied  that  his  father  was  to  the  full  as 
respectable  as  Mr.  Noddy's  father,  and  that  his  fathers  son 
was  as  good  a  man  as  Mr.  Noddy,  any  day  in  the  week.  As 
this  announcement  seemed  the  prelude  to  a  recommencement 
of  the  dispute,  there  was  another  interference  on  the  part  of 
the  company ;  and  a  vast  quantity  of  talking  and  clamouring 
ensued,  in  the  course  of  which  Mr.  Noddy  gradually  allowed 
his  feelings  to  overpower  him,  and  professed  that  he  had  ever 
entertained  a  devoted  personal  attachment  towards  Mr.  Gunter. 
To  this  Mr.  Gunter  replied  that,  upon  the  whole,  he  rather 
preferred  Mr.  Noddy  to  his  own  brother;  on  hearing  which 
admission,  Mr.  Noddy  magnanimously  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
proffered  his  hand  to  Mr.  Gunter.  Mr.  Gunter  grasped  it 
with  affecting  fervour;  and  everybody  said  that  the  whole 
dispute  had  been  conducted  in  a  manner  which  was  highly 
honourable  to  both  parties  concerned. 

"Now,"  said  Jack  Hopkins,  "just  to  set  us  going  again, 
Bob,  I  don't  mind  singing  a  song."  And  Hopkins,  incited 


48  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

thereto,  by  tumultuous  applause,  plunged  himself  at  once 
into  "  The  King,  God  bless  him,"  which  he  sang  as  loud  as  he 
could,  to  a  novel  air,  compounded  of  the  "  Bay  of  Biscay," 
and  "  A  Frog  he  would.'"  The  chorus  was  the  essence  of  the 
song;  and,  as  each  gentleman  sang  it  to  the  tune  he  knew 
best,  the  effect  was  very  striking  indeed. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  the  chorus  to  the  first  verse,  that  Mr. 
Pickwick  held  up  his  hand  in  a  listening  attitude,  and  said, 
as  soon  as  silence  was  restored : 

"  Hush !  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  thought  I  heard  somebody 
calling  from  up  stairs." 

A  profound  silence  immediately  ensued;  and  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  was  observed  to  turn  pale. 

"I  think  I  hear  it  now,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Have  the 
goodness  to  open  the  door." 

The  door  was  no  sooner  opened  than  all  doubt  on  the 
subject  was  removed. 

"  Mr.  Sawyer !  Mr.  Sawyer ! "  screamed  a  voice  from  the 
two-pair  landing. 

"It's  my  landlady,  said  Bob  Sawyer,  looking  round  him 
with  great  dismay.  "  Yes,  Mrs.  Raddle." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  this,  Mr.  Sawyer?"  replied  the 
voice,  with  great  shrillness  and  rapidity  of  utterance.  "  Ain't 
it  enough  to  be  swindled  out  of  one's  rent,  and  money  lent 
out  of  pocket  besides,  and  abused  and  insulted  by  your  friends 
that  dares  to  call  themselves  men :  without  having  the  house 
turned  out  of  window,  and  noise  enough  made  to  bring  the 
fire-engines  here,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning? — Turn 
them  wretches  away." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves,"  said  the  voice 
of  Mr.  Raddle,  which  appeared  to  proceed  from  beneath 
some  distant  bed-clothes. 

"  Ashamed  of  themselves  . "  said  Mrs.  Raddle.  "  Why  don't 
you  go  down  and  knock  'em  every  one  down  stairs?  You 
would  if  you  was  a  man." 

"I  should  if  I  was  a  dozen  men,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr, 


BREAK  UP  OF  THE  PARTY.  49 

Raddle,   pacifically,   "  but   they've   the   advantage   of  me   in 
numbers,  my  dear." 

"Ugh,  you  coward!"  replied  Mrs.  Raddle,  with  supreme 
contempt.  "  Do  you  mean  to  turn  them  wretches  out,  or  not, 
Mr.  Sawyer?" 

"They're  going,  Mrs.  Raddle,  they're  going,"  said  the- 
miserable  Bob.  "  I  am  afraid  you'd  better  go,"  said  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  to  his  friends.  "  I  thought  you  were  making  too  much 
noise." 

"  It's  a  very  unfortunate  thing,  said  the  prim  man.  "  Just 
as  we  were  getting  so  comfortable  too !  "  The  prim  man 
was  just  beginning  to  have  a  dawning  recollection  of  the  story 
he  had  forgotten. 

"It's  hardly  to  be  borne,"  said  the  prim  man,  looking 
round.  "  Hardly  to  be  borne,  is  it  ?  " 

"Not  to  be  endured,"  replied  Jack  Hopkins;  "let's  have 
the  other  verse,  Bob.  Come,  here  goes ! " 

"  No,  no,  Jack,  don't,"  interposed  Bob  Sawyer ;  "  it's  a 
capital  song,  but  I  am  afraid  we  had  better  not  have  the 
other  verse.  They  are  very  violent  people,  the  people  of  the 
house." 

Shall  I  step  up  stairs,  and  pitch  into  the  landlord?" 
inquired  Hopkins,  "or  keep  on  ringing  the  bell,  or  go  and 
groan  on  the  staircase?  You  may  command  me,  Bob." 

"  I  am  very  much  indebted  to  you  for  your  friendship  and 
good  nature,  Hopkins,"  said  the  wretched  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer, 
"but  I  think  the  best  plan  to  avoid  any  further  dispute  is 
for  us  to  break  up  at  once." 

"Now,  Mr.  Sawyer!"  screamed  the  shrill  voice  of  Mrs. 
Raddle,  "are  them  brutes  going?" 

"They're  only  looking  for  their  hats,  Mrs.  Raddle,"  said 
Bob  ;  "  they  are  going  directly." 

"  Going ! "  said  Mrs.  Raddle,  thrusting  her  night-cap  over 
the  banisters  just  as  Mr.  Pickwick,  followed  by  Mr.  Tupman, 
emerged  from  the  sitting-room.  "  Going !  what  did  they  ever 
come  for  ?  " 


50  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

*'My  dear  ma'am,"  remonstrated  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  up. 

"  Get  along  with  you,  you  old  wretch  ! "  replied  Mrs.  Raddle, 
hastily  withdrawing  the  night-cap.  "  Old  enough  to  be  his 
grandfather,  you  willin !  You're  worse  than  any  of  <>em.TI 

Mr.  Pickwick  found  it  in  vain  to  protest  his  innocence,  so 
hurried  down  stairs  into  the  street,  whither  he  was  closely 
followed  by  Mr.  Tupman,  Mr.  Winkle,  and  Mr.  Snodgrass. 
Mr.  Ben  Allen,  who  was  dismally  depressed  with  spirits  and 
agitation,  accompanied  them  as  far  as  London  Bridge,  and 
in  the  course  of  the  walk  confided  to  Mr.  Winkle,  as  an 
especially  eligible  person  to  intrust  the  secret  to,  that  he 
was  resolved  to  cut  the  throat  of  any  gentleman  except  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  who  should  aspire  to  the  affections  of  his  sister 
Arabella.  Having  expressed  his  determination  to  perform 
this  painful  duty  of  a  brother  with  proper  firmness,  he  burst 
into  tears,  knocked  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and,  making  the 
best  of  his  way  back,  knocked  double  knocks  at  the  door  of 
the  Borough  Market  office,  and  took  short  naps  on  the  steps 
alternately,  until  daybreak,  under  the  firm  impression  that  he 
lived  there,  and  had  forgotten  the  key. 

The  visitors  having  all  departed,  in  compliance  with  the 
rather  pressing  request  of  Mrs.  Raddle,  the  luckless  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  was  left  alone,  to  meditate  on  the  probable  events  of 
to-morrow,  and  the  pleasures  of  the  evening. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

Mil.  WELLER  THE  ELDER  DELIVERS  SOME  CRITICAL  SENTIMENTS 
RESPECTING  LITERARY  COMPOSITION ;  AND,  ASSISTED  BY  HIS 
SON  SAMUEL,  PAYS  A  SMALL  INSTALMENT  OF  RETALIATION 
TO  THE  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  REVEREND  GENTLEMAN  WITH  THE 
RED  NOSE. 

THE  morning  of  the  thirteenth  of  February,  which  the 
readers  of  this  authentic  narrative  know,  as  well  as  we  do, 
to  have  been  the  day  immediately  preceding  that  which  was 
appointed  for  the  trial  of  Mrs.  BardelPs  action,  was  a  busy 
time  for  Mr.  Samuel  Weller,  who  was  perpetually  engaged 
in  travelling  from  the  George  and  Vulture  to  Mr.  Porker's 
chambers  and  back  again,  from  and  between  the  hours  of  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  two  in  the  afternoon,  both  inclusive. 
Not  that  there  was  anything  whatever  to  be  done,  for  the 
consultation  had  taken  place,  and  the  course  of  proceeding 
to  be  adopted,  had  been  finally  determined  on ;  but  Mr. 
Pickwick  being  in  a  most  extreme  state  of  excitement, 
persevered  in  constantly  sending  small  notes  to  his  attorney, 
merely  containing  the  inquiry,  "Dear  Perker.  Is  all  going 
on  well  ? "  to  which  Mr.  Perker  invariably  forwarded  the 
reply,  "Dear  Pickwick.  As  well  as  possible;11  the  fact  being, 
as  we  have  already  hinted,  that  there  was  nothing  whatever 
to  go  on,  either  well  or  ill,  until  the  sitting  of  the  court  on 
the  following  morning. 

But  people  who  go  voluntarily  to  law,  or  are  taken  forcibly 


52  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

there,  for  the  first  time,  may  be  allowed  to  labour  under 
some  temporary  irritation  and  anxiety :  and  Sam,  with  a  due 
allowance  for  the  frailties  of  human  nature,  obeyed  all  his 
master's  behests  with  that  imperturbable  good  humour  and 
unruffable  composure  which  formed  one  of  his  most  striking 
and  amiable  characteristics. 

Sam  had  solaced  himself  with  a  most  agreeable  little  dinner, 
and  was  waiting  at  the  bar  for  the  glass  of  warm  mixture  in 
which  Mr.  Pickwick  had  requested  him  to  drown  the  fatigues 
of  his  morning's  walks,  when  a  young  boy  of  about  three  feet 
high,  or  thereabouts,  in  a  hairy  cap  and  fustian  over-alls, 
whose  garb  bespoke  a  laudable  ambition  to  attain  in  time 
the  elevation  of  an  hostler,  entered  the  passage  of  the  George 
and  Vulture,  and  looked  first  up  the  stairs,  and  then  along 
the  passage,  and  then  into  the  bar,  as  if  in  search  of  somebody 
to  whom  he  bore  a  commission ;  whereupon  the  barmaid, 
conceiving  it  not  improbable  that  the  said  commission  might 
be  directed  to  the  tea  or  table  spoons  of  the  establishment, 
accosted  the  boy  with 

"  Now,  young  man,  what  do  you  want  ? " 

"  Is  there  anybody  here,  named  Sam  ? "  inquired  the  youth, 
in  a  loud  voice  of  treble  quality. 

"What's  the  t'other  name?"  said  Sam  Weller,  looking 
round. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  "  briskly  replied  the  young  gentle- 
man below  the  hairy  cap. 

"  You're  a  sharp  boy,  you  are,"  said  Mr.  Weller ;  "  only 
I  wouldn't  show  that  wery  fine  edge  too  much,  if  I  was  you, 
in  case  anybody  took  it  off.  What  do  you  mean  by  comin' 
to  a  hot-el,  and  asking  arter  Sam,  vith  as  much  politeness 
as  a  vild  Indian  ?  n 

"'Cos  an  old  gen'l'm'n  told  me  to,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  What  old  gen'l'm'n  ? "  inquired  Sam,  with  deep  disdain. 

"Him  as  drives  a  Ipswich  coach,  and  uses  our  parlour," 
rejoined  the  boy.  "He  told  me  yesterday  mornin'  to  come 
to  the  George  and  Wultur  this  arternoon,  and  ask  for  Sam." 


A  SUDDEN  REMINDER.  53 

"It's  my  father,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  turning  with 
an  explanatory  air  to  the  young  lady  in  the  bar ;  "  blessed 
if  I  think  he  hardly  knows  wot  my  other  name  is.  Veil, 
young  brockiley  sprout,  wot  then  ? " 

"  Why,  then,"  said  the  boy,  "  you  was  to  come  to  him  at 
six  o'clock  to  our  ouse,  'cos  he  wants  to  see  you — Blue  Boar, 
Leaden'all  Markit.  Shall  I  say  you're  comin'  ?  " 

"You  may  wenture  on  that  'ere  statement,  sir,"  replied 
Sam.  And  thus  empowered,  the  young  gentleman  walked 
away,  awakening  all  the  echoes  in  George  Yard  as  he  did  so, 
with  several  chaste  and  extremely  correct  imitations  of  a 
drover's  whistle,  delivered  in  a  tone  of  peculiar  richness  and 
volume. 

Mr.  Weller  having  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  Mr. 
Pickwick,  who,  in  his  then  state  of  excitement  and  worry 
was  by  no  means  displeased  at  being  left  alone,  set  forth, 
long  before  the  appointed  hour,  and  having  plenty  of  time 
at  his  disposal,  sauntered  down  as  far  as  the  Mansion  House, 
where  he  paused  and  contemplated,  with  a  face  of  great  calm- 
ness and  philosophy,  the  numerous  cads  and  drivers  of  short 
stages  who  assemble  near  that  famous  place  of  resort,  to  the 
great  terror  and  confusion  of  the  old-lady  population  of  these 
realms.  Having  loitered  here,  for  half  an  hour  or  so,  Mr. 
Weller  turned,  and  began  wending  his  way  towards  Leadenhall 
Market,  through  a  variety  of  bye  streets  and  courts.  As  he 
was  sauntering  away  his  spare  time,  and  stopped  to  look  at 
almost  every  object  that  met  his  gaze,  it  is  by  no  means 
surprising  that  Mr.  Weller  should  have  paused  before  a  small 
stationer's  and  print-seller's  window ;  but  without  further 
explanation  it  does  appear  surprising  that  his  eyes  should  have 
no  sooner  rested  on  certain  pictures  which  were  exposed  for 
sale  therein,  than  he  gave  a  sudden  start,  smote  his  right 
leg  with  great  vehemence,  and  exclaimed  with  energy,  "  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  this,  I  should  ha'  forgot  all  about  it,  till  it 
was  too  late ! " 

The  particular  picture  on  which  Sam  Weller's  eyes  were 


54  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

fixed,  as  he  said  this,  was  a  highly  coloured  representation  of 
a  couple  of  human  hearts  skewered  together  with  an  arrow, 
cooking  before  a  cheerful  fire,  while  a  male  and  female 
cannibal  in  modern  attire :  the  gentleman  being  clad  in  a  blue 
coat  and  white  trousers,  and  the  lady  in  a  deep  red  pelisse 
with  a  parasol  of  the  same :  were  approaching  the  meal  with 
hungry  eyes,  up  a  serpentine  gravel  path  leading  thereunto. 
A  decidedly  indelicate  young  gentleman,  in  a  pair  of  wings 
and  nothing  else,  was  depicted  as  superintending  the  cooking ; 
a  representation  of  the  spire  of  the  church  in  Langham  Place, 
London,  appeared  in  the  distance;  and  the  whole  formed  a 
"  valentine,11  of  which,  as  a  written  inscription  in  the  window 
testified,  there  was  a  large  assortment  within,  which  the 
shopkeeper  pledged  himself  to  dispose  of,  to  his  countrymen 
generally,  at  the  reduced  rate  of  one  and  sixpence  each. 

"  I  should  ha1  forgot  it ;  I  should  certainly  ha1  forgot  it ! "" 
said  Sam ;  so  saying,  he  at  once  stepped  into  the  stationer's 
shop,  and  requested  to  be  served  with  a  sheet  of  the  best 
gilt-edged  letter-paper,  and  a  hard-nibbed  pen  which  could 
be  warranted  not  to  splutter.  These  articles  having  been 
promptly  supplied,  he  walked  on  direct  towards  Leadenhall 
Market  at  a  good  round  pace,  very  different  from  his  recent 
lingering  one.  Looking  round  him,  he  there  beheld  a  sign- 
board on  which  the  painter's  art  had  delineated  something 
remotely  resembling  a  cerulean  elephant  with  an  aquiline 
nose  in  lieu  of  trunk.  Rightly  conjecturing  that  this  was 
the  Blue  Boar  himself,  he  stepped  into  the  house,  and  inquired 
concerning  his  parent. 

"  He  won't  be  here  this  three  quarters  of  an  hour  or  more," 
said  the  young  lady  who  superintended  the  domestic  arrange- 
ments of  the  Blue  Boar. 

"Wery  good,  my  dear,11  replied  Sam.  "Let  me  have  nine 
penn'orth  o'  brandy  and  water  luke,  and  the  inkstand,  will 
you,  miss?" 

The  brandy  and  water  luke,  and  the  inkstand,  having  been 
earned  into  the  little  parlour,  and  the  young  lady  having 


A  VALENTINE.  55 

carefully  flattened  down  the  coals  to  prevent  their  blazing, 
and  earned  away  the  poker  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  the 
fire  being  stirred,  without  the  full  privity  and  concurrence  of 
the  Blue  Boar  being  first  had  and  obtained,  Sam  Weller  sat 
himself  down  in  a  box  near  the  stove,  and  pulled  out  the 
sheet  of  gilt-edged  letter-paper,  and  the  hard-nibbed  pen. 
Then  looking  carefully  at  the  pen  to  see  that  there  were  no 
hairs  in  it,  and  dusting  down  the  table,  so  that  there  might  be 
no  crumbs  of  bread  under  the  paper,  Sam  tucked  up  the  cuffs 
of  his  coat,  squared  his  elbows,  and  composed  himself  to  write. 

To  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
devoting  themselves  practically  to  the  science  of  penmanship, 
writing;a  letter  is  no  very  easy  task ;  it  being  always  considered 
necessary  in  such  cases  for  the  writer  to  recline  his  head  on 
his  left  arm,  so  as  to  place  his  eyes  as  nearly  as  possible  on 
a  level  with  the  paper,  while  glancing  sideways  at  the  letters 
he  is  constructing,  to  form  with  his  tongue  imaginary  characters 
to  correspond.  These  motions,  although  unquestionably  of 
the  greatest  assistance  to  original  composition,  retard  in  some 
degree  the  progress  of  the  writer ;  and  Sam  had  unconsciously 
been  a  full  hour  and  a  half  writing  words  in  small  text, 
smearing  out  wrong  letters  with  his  little  finger,  and  putting 
in  new  ones  which  required  going  over  very  often  to  render 
them  visible  through  the  old  blots,  when  he  was  roused  by 
the  opening  of  the  door  and  the  entrance  of  his  parent. 

"Veil,  Sammy,"  said  the  father. 

"  Veil,  my  Prooshan  Blue,11  responded  the  son,  laying  down 
his  pen.  "What's  the  last  bulletin  about  mother-in-law?"" 

"Mrs.  Veller  passed  a  very  good  night,  but  is  uncommon 
perwerse,  and  unpleasant  this  mornin1.  Signed  upon  oath, 
S.  Veller,  Esquire,  Senior.  That's  the  last  vun  as  was  issued, 
Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  untying  his  shawl. 

"  No  better  yet  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"All  the  symptoms  aggerawated,"  replied  Mr.  Weller, 
shaking  his  head.  "But  wofs  that,  you're  a  doin1  of? 
Pursuit  of  knowledge  under  difficulties,  Sammy  ?  " 


56  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"I've  done  now,1'  said  Sam  with  slight  embarrassment ; 
"  I've  been  a  writin'." 

"So  I  see,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Not  to  any  young 
'ooman,  I  hope,  Sammy?" 

'Why  it's  no  use  a  sayin'  it  ain't,"  replied  Sam,  "It's  a 
walentine." 

"A  what!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller,  apparently  horror- 
stricken  by  the  word. 

"A  walentine,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Samivel,  Samivel,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  in  reproachful  accents, 
"  I  didn't  think  you'd  ha'  done  it.  Arter  the  warnin'  you've 
had  o'  your  father's  wicious  propensities;  arter  all  I've  said 
to  you  upon  this  here  wery  subject;  arter  actiwally  seein' 
and  bein'  in  the  company  o'  your  own  mother-in-law,  vich  I 
should  ha'  thought  wos  a  moral  lesson  as  no  man  could 
never  ha'  forgotten  to  his  dyin'  day !  I  didn't  think  you'd 
ha'  done  it,  Sammy,  I  didn't  think  you'd  ha'  done  it ! " 
These  reflections  were  too  much  for  the  good  old  man.  He 
raised  Sam's  tumbler  to  his  lips  and  drank  off  its  contents. 

"  Wot's  the  matter  now  ?  "  said  Sam. 

"Nev'r  mind,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  "it'll  be  a 
wery  agonizin'  trial  to  me  at  my  time  of  life,  but  I'm  pretty 
tough,  that's  vun  consolation,  as  the  wery  old  turkey  remarked 
wen  the  farmer  said  he  wos  afeerd  he  should  be  obliged  to 
kill  him  for  the  London  market." 

"  Wot'll  be  a  trial  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  To  see  you  married,  Sammy — to  see  you  a  dilluded  wictim, 
and  thinkin'  in  your  innocence  that  it's  all  wery  capital," 
replied  Mr.  Weller.  "It's  a  dreadful  trial  to  a  father's 
feelin's,  that  'ere,  Sammy." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Sam.  "I  ain't  a  goin'  to  get  married, 
don't  you  fret  yourself  about  that;  I  know  you're  a  judge 
of  these  things.  Order  in  your  pipe,  and  I'll  read  you  the 
letter.  There ! " 

We  cannot  distinctly  say  whether  it  was  the  prospect  of 
the  pipe,  or  the  consolatory  reflection  that  a  fatal  disposition 


SAM  READS  THE   VALENTINE.  57 

to  get  married  ran  in  the  family  and  couldn't  be  helped, 
which  calmed  Mr.  Welter's  feelings,  and  caused  his  grief  to 
subside.  We  should  be  rather  disposed  to  say  that  the 
result  was  attained  by  combining  the  two  sources  of  consola- 
tion, for  he  repeated  the  second  in  a  low  tone,  very  frequently ; 
ringing  the  bell  meanwhile,  to  order  in  the  first.  He  then 
divested  himself  of  his  upper  coat ;  and  lighting  the  pipe  and 
placing  himself  in  front  of  the  fire  with  his  back  towards  it, 
so  that  he  could  feel  its  full  heat,  and  recline  against  the 
mantelpiece  at  the  same  time,  turned  towards  Sam,  and,  with 
a  countenance  greatly  mollified  by  the  softening  influence  of 
tobacco,  requested  him  to  "fire  away.'1 

Sam  dipped  his  pen  into  the  ink  to  be  ready  for  any 
corrections,  and  began  with  a  very  theatrical  air : 

"  '  Lovely .' " 

"Stop," 'said  Mr.  Weller,  ringing  the  bell.  "A  double 
glass  o'  the  inwariable,  my  dear."" 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  replied  the  girl ;  who  with  great  quickness 
appeared,  vanished,  returned,  and  disappeared. 

"They  seem  to  know  your  ways  here,"  observed  Sam. 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  father,  "  I've  been  here  before,  in  my 
time.  Go  on,  Sammy." 

"'Lovely  creetur,'"  repeated  Sam. 

"  'Tain't  in  poetry,  is  it  ?  "  interposed  his  father. 

"No,  no,"  replied  Sam. 

"Werry  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Weller.  "Poetry's 
unnat'ral ;  no  man  ever  talked  poetry  'cept  a  beadle  on  boxin' 
day,  or  Warren's  blackin',  or  Rowland's  oil,  or  some  o'  them 
low  fellows ;  never  you  let  yourself  down  to  talk  poetry,  my 
boy.  Begin  agin,  Sammy." 

Mr.  Weller  resumed  his  pipe  with  critical  solemnity,  and 
Sam  once  more  commenced,  and  read  as  follows : 

" '  Lovely  creetur  i  feel  myself  a  dammed ' — ." 

"That  ain't  proper,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  taking  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth. 

"No;  it  ain't  'dammed',"  observed  Sam,  holding  the  letter 


58  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

up  to  the  light,  "  it's  ' shamed,'  there's  a  blot  there—4 1  feel 
myself  ashamed.' " 

"  Werry  good/'  said  Mr.  Weller.     "  Go  on." 

'"Feel  myself  ashamed,  and  completely  cir — '  I  forget 
what  this  here  word  is,"  said  Sam,  scratching  his  head  with 
the  pen,  in  vain  attempts  to  remember. 

"  Why  don't  you  look  at  it,  then  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"So  I  am  a  lookin'  at  it,"  replied  Sam,  "but  there's 
another  blot.  Here's  a  'c,'  and  a  'i,'  and  a  'd.'" 

"  Circumwented,  p'haps,"  suggested  Mr.  Weller. 

"  No,  it  ain't  that,"  said  Sam,  "  circumscribed ;  that's  it." 

"That  ain't  as  good  a  word  as  circumwented,  Sammy," 
said  Mr.  Weller,  gravely. 

"Think  not?"  said  Sam. 

"  Nothin'  like  it,"  replied  his  father. 

"  But  don't  you  think  it  means  more  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Veil  p'raps  it  is  a  more  tenderer  word,"  said  Mr.  Weller, 
after  a  few  moments'  reflection.  "  Go  on,  Sammy." 

"'Feel  myself  ashamed  and  completely  circumscribed  in 
a  dressin'  of  you,  for  you  are  a  nice  gal  and  nothin' 
but  it.'" 

"That's  a  werry  pretty  sentiment,"  said  the  elder  Mr. 
Weller,  removing  his  pipe  to  make  way  for  the  remark. 

"Yes,  I  think  it  is  rayther  good,"  observed  Sam,  highly 
flattered. 

"Wot  I  like  in  that  'ere  style  of  writin',"  said  the  elder 
Mr.  Weller,  "is,  that  there  ain't  no  callin'  names  in  it, — no 
Wenuses,  nor  nothin'  o'  that  kind.  Wot's  the  good  o'  callin' 
a  young  'ooman  a  Wenus  or  a  angel,  Sammy?" 

"Ah!  what,  indeed?"  replied  Sam. 

"You  might  jist  as  well  call  her  a  griffin,  or  a  unicorn, 
or  a  king's  arms  at  once,  which  is  werry  well  known  to  be 
a  col-lection  o'  fabulous  animals,"  added  Mr.  Weller. 

"Just  as  well,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Drive  on,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 

Sam  complied  with  the  request,  and  proceeded  as  follows ; 


MR.  WELLER  THE  ELDER  APPROVES.       59 

his  father  continuing  to  smoke,  with  a  mixed  expression  of 
wisdom  and  complacency,  which  was  particularly  edifying. 

"  *  Afore  I  see  you,  I  thought  all  women  was  alike.1 " 

"  So  they  are,"  observed  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  parenthetically. 

"'But  now,"  continued  Sam,  'now  I  find  what  a  regular 
soft-headed,  inkred'lous  turnip  I  must  ha1  been;  for  there 
ain't  nobody  like  you,  though  /  like  you  better  than  nothin1 
at  all.1  I  thought  it  best  to  make  that  rayther  strong,"  said 
Sam,  looking  up. 

Mr.  Weller  nodded  approvingly,  and  Sam  resumed. 

" '  So  I  take  the  privilidge  of  the  day,  Mary,  my  dear — as 
the  genTm'n  in  difficulties  did,  ven  he  valked  out  of  a  Sunday, 
— to  tell  you  that  the  first  and  only  time  I  see  you,  your 
likeness  was  took  on  my  hart  in  much  quicker  time  and 
brighter  colours  than  ever  a  likeness  was  took  by  the  profeel 
macheen  (wich  p'raps  you  may  have  heerd  on  Mary  my  dear) 
altho  it  does  finish  a  portrait  and  put  the  frame  and  glass  on 
complete,  with  a  hook  at  the  end  to  hang  it  up  by,  and  all 
in  two  minutes  and  a  quarter.1 " 

"I  am  afeerd  that  werges  on  the  poetical,  Sammy,11  said 
Mr.  Weller,  dubiously. 

"No  it  don't,"  replied  Sam,  reading  on  very  quickly,  to 
avoid  contesting  the  point : 

"'Except  of  me  Mary  my  dear  as  your  walentine  and 
think  over  what  IVe  said. — My  dear  Mary  I  will  now  con- 
clude.' Thai's  all,"  said  Sam. 

"That's  rather  a  sudden  pull  up,  ain't  it,  Sammy?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Weller. 

"  Not  a  bit  on  it,"  said  Sam ;  "  she'll  vish  there  wos  more, 
and  that's  the  great  art  o1  letter  writin1." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  there's  somethin'  in  that ;  and 
I  wish  your  mother-in-law  'ud  only  conduct  her  conwersa- 
tion  on  the  same  gen-teel  principle.  Ain't  you  a  goin'  to 
sign  it?" 

"That's  the  difficulty,"  said  Sam;  "I  don't  know  what  to 
sign  it." 


60  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB, 

"Sign  it,  Veller,"  said  the  oldest  surviving  proprietor  of 
that  name. 

"Won't  do,"  said  Sam.  "Never  sign  a  walentine  with 
your  own  name.'1 

"  Sign  it  '  Pickvick,'  then,"  said  Mr.  Weller ;  "  it's  a  werry 
good  name,  and  a  easy  one  to  spell." 

"  The  wery  thing,"  said  Sam.  "  I  could  end  with  a  werse ; 
what  do  you  think  ? " 

"I  don't  like  it,  Sam,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller.  "I  never 
know'd  a  respectable  coachman  as  wrote  poetry,  'cept  one, 
as  made  an  affectin'  copy  o'  werses  the  night  afore  he  wos 
hung  for  a  highway  robbery;  and  he  wos  only  a  Cambervell 
man,  so  even  that's  no  rule." 

But  Sam  was  not  to  be  dissuaded  from  the  poetical  idea 
that  had  occurred  to  him,  so  he  signed  the  letter, 

"Your  love-sick 
Pickwick." 

And  having  folded  it,  in  a  very  intricate  manner,  squeezed 
a  down-hill  direction  in  one  corner:  "To  Mary,  Housemaid, 
at  Mr.  Nupkins's  Mayor's,  Ipswich,  Suffolk ; "  and  put  it  into 
his  pocket,  wafered,  and  ready  for  the  General  Post.  This 
important  business  having  been  transacted,  Mr.  Weller  the 
elder  proceeded  to  open  that,  on  which  he  had  summoned 
his  son. 

"The  first  matter  relates  to  your  governor,  Sammy,"  said 
Mr.  Weller.  "  He's  a  goin'  to  be  tried  to-morrow,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"The  trial's  a  comin'  on,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Veil,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  Now  I  s'pose  he'll  want  to  call 
some  witnesses  to  speak  to  his  character,  or  p'haps  to  prove 
a  alleybi.  I've  been  a  turnin'  the  bis'ness  over  in  my  mind, 
and  he  may  make  his-self  easy,  Sammy.  I've  got  some  friends 
as'll  do  either  for  him,  but  my  adwice  'ud  be  this  here — never 
mind  the  character,  and  stick  to  the  alleybi.  Nothing  like  a 
alleybi,  Sammy,  nothing."  Mr.  Weller  looked  very  profound 
as  he  delivered  this  legal  opinion ;  and  burying  his  nose  in 


MR.  WELLER'S  LEGAL  OPINION.  61 

his  tumbler,  winked  over  the  top  thereof,  at  his  astonished 
son. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ? "  said  Sam ;  "  you  don't  think 
he's  a  goin'  to  be  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey,  do  you  ? " 

"  That  ain't  no  part  of  the  present  con-sideration,  Sammy," 
replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Verever  he's  a  goin'  to  be  tried,  my 
boy,  a  alleybi's  the  thing  to  get  him  off.  Ve  got  Tom 
Vildspark  off  that  'ere  manslaughter,  with  a  alleybi,  ven  all 
the  big  vigs  to  a  man  said  as  nothing  couldn't  save  him. 
And  my  'pinion  is,  Sammy,  that  if  your  governor  don't  prove 
a  alleybi,  he'll  be  what  the  Italians  call  reg'larly  flummoxed, 
and  that's  all  about  it." 

As  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  entertained  a  firm  and  unalterable 
conviction  that  the  Old  Bailey  was  the  supreme  court  of 
judicature  in  this  country,  and  that  its  rules  and  forms  of 
proceeding  regulated  and  controlled  the  practice  of  all  other 
courts  of  justice  whatsoever,  he  totally  disregarded  the  assur- 
ances and  arguments  of  his  son,  tending  to  show  that  the 
alibi  was  inadmissible;  and  vehemently  protested  that  Mr. 
Pickwick  was  being  "  wictimised."  Finding  that  it  was  of  no 
use  to  discuss  the  matter  further,  Sam  changed  the  subject, 
and  inquired  what  the  second  topic  was,  on  which  his  revered 
parent  wished  to  consult  him. 

"  That's  a  pint  o'  domestic  policy,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 
"This  here  Stiggins — " 

"  Red-nosed  man  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"The  wery  same,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "This  here  red- 
nosed  man,  Sammy,  wisits  your  mother-in-law  vith  a  kindness 
and  constancy  as  I  never  see  equalled.  He's  sitch  a  friend  o' 
the  family,  Sammy,  that  wen  he's  avay  from  us,  he  can't  be 
comfortable  unless  he  has  somethin'  to  remember  us  by." 

"And  I'd  give  him  somethin'  as  'ud  turpentine  and  bees'- 
vax  his  memory  for  the  next  ten  years  or  so,  if  I  wos  you," 
interposed  Sam. 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Mr.  Weller ;  "  I  wos  a  going  to 
say^  he  always  brings  now,  a  flat  bottle  as  holds  about  a 


62  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

pint  and  a-half,  and  fills  it  vith  the  pine-apple  rum  afore  he 
goes  avay." 

"And  empties  it  afore  he  comes  back,  I  s'pose?"  said  Sam. 

"  Clean ! "  replied  Mr.  Weller ;  "  never  leaves  nothin'  in  it 
but  the  cork  and  the  smell ;  trust  him  for  that,  Sammy. 
Now,  these  here  fellows,  my  boy,  are  a  goin'  to-night  to  get 
up  the  monthly  meetin'  o'  the  Brick  Lane  Branch  o'  the 
United  Grand  Junction  Ebenezer  Temperance  Association. 
Your  mother-in-law  wos  a  goin',  Sammy,  but  she's  got  the 
rheumatics,  and  can't ;  and  I,  Sammy — I've  got  the  two  tickets 
as  wos  sent  her.""  Mr.  Weller  communicated  this  secret  with 
great  glee,  and  winked  so  indefatigably  after  doing  so,  that 
Sam  began  to  think  he  must  have  got  the  tic  doloureux  in 
his  right  eye-lid. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  that  young  gentleman. 

"Well,"  continued  his  progenitor,  looking  round  him  very 
cautiously,  "you  and  Fll  go,  punctiwal  to  the  time.  The 
deputy  shepherd  won't,  Sammy ;  the  deputy  shepherd  won't." 
Here  Mr.  Weller  was  seized  with  a  paroxysm  of  chuckles, 
which  gradually  terminated  in  as  near  an  approach  to  a  choke 
as  an  elderly  gentleman  can,  with  safety,  sustain. 

"  Well,  I  never  see  sitch  an  old  ghost  in  all  my  born  days,"" 
exclaimed  Sam,  rubbing  the  old  gentleman's  back,  hard 
enough  to  set  him  on  fire  with  the  friction.  "  What  are  you 
a  laughin'  at,  corpilence  ?  " 

"Hush!  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  looking  round  him 
with  increased  caution,  and  speaking  in  a  whisper :  "  Two 
friends  o'  mine,  as  works  the  Oxford  Road,  and  is  up  to  all 
kinds  o'  games,  has  got  the  deputy  shepherd  safe  in  tow, 
Sammy;  and  ven  he  does  come  to  the  Ebenezer  Junction, 
(vich  he's  sure  to  do:  for  they'll  see  him  to  the  door,  and 
shove  him  in  if  necessary)  he'll  be  as  far  gone  in  rum  and 
water  as  ever  he  wos  at  the  Markis  o'  Granby,  Dorkin',  and 
that's  not  sayin*  a  little  neither."  And  with  this,  Mr.  Weller 
once  more  laughed  immoderately,  and  once  more  relapsed 
into  a  state  of  partial  suffocation,  in  consequence. 


VISIT  TO   BRICK   LANE.  63 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  in  accordance  with  Sam 
Welle^s  feelings,  than  the  projected  exposure  of  the  real 
propensities  and  qualities  of  the  red-nosed  man ;  and  it  being 
very  near  the  appointed  hour  of  meeting,  the  father  and  son 
took  their  way  at  once  to  Brick  Lane :  Sam  not  forgetting 
to  drop  his  letter  into  a  general  post-office  as  they  walked 
along. 

The  monthly  meetings  of  the  Brick  Lane  Branch  of  the 
United  Grand  Junction  Ebenezer  Temperance  Association, 
were  held  in  a  large  room,  pleasantly  and  airily  situated  at 
the  top  of  a  safe  and  commodious  ladder.  The  president 
was  the  straight-walking  Mr.  Anthony  Humm,  a  converted 
fireman,  now  a  schoolmaster,  and  occasionally  an  itinerant 
preacher ;  and  the  secretary  was  Mr.  Jonas  Mudge,  chandler's 
shop-keeper,  an  enthusiastic  and  disinterested  vessel,  who 
sold  tea  to  the  members.  Previous  to  the  commencement  of 
business,  the  ladies  sat  upon  forms,  and  drank  tea,  till  such 
time  as  they  considered  it  expedient  to  leave  off;  and  a  large 
wooden  money-box  was  conspicuously  placed  upon  the  green 
baize  cloth  of  the  business  table,  behind  which  the  secretary 
stood,  and  acknowledged,  with  a  gracious  smile,  every  addition 
to  the  rich  vein  of  copper  which  lay  concealed  within. 

On  this  particular  occasion  the  women  drank  tea  to  a  most 
alarming  extent ;  greatly  to  the  horror  of  Mr.  Weller  senior, 
who,  utterly  regardless  of  all  Sam's  admonitory  nudgings, 
stared  about  him  in  every  direction  with  the  most  undisguised 
astonishment. 

"Sammy,'"  whispered  Mr.  Weller,  "if  some  o'  these  here 
people  don't  want  tappin'  to-morrow  morning  I  ain't  your 
father,  and  that's  wot  it  is.  Why,  this  here  old  lady  next 
me  is  a  drowndin'  herself  in  tea." 

"Be  quiet,  can't  you,"  murmured  Sam. 

"Sam,"  whispered  Mr.  Weller,  a  moment  afterwards,  in  a 
tone  of  deep  agitation,  "mark  my  vords,  my  boy.  If  that 
'ere  secretary  fellow  keeps  on  for  only  five  minutes  more, 
he'll  blow  hisself  up  with  toast  and  water." 


64  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Well,  let  him,  if  he  likes,"  replied  Sam;  "it  ain't  no 
bis'ness  o'  yourn." 

"  If  this  here  lasts  much  longer,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller, 
in  the  same  low  voice,  "I  shall  feel  it  my  duty,  as  a  human 
bein1,  to  rise  and  address  the  cheer.  There's  a  young  'ooman 
on  the  next  form  but  two,  as  has  drunk  nine  breakfast  cups 
and  a  half;  and  she's  a  swellin'  wisibly  before  my  wery  eyes." 

There  is  little  doubt  that  Mr.  Weller  would  have  carried 
his  benevolent  intention  into  immediate  execution,  if  a  great 
noise,  occasioned  by  putting  up  the  cups  and  saucers,  had 
not  very  fortunately  announced  that  the  tea-drinking  was 
over.  The  crockery  having  been  removed,  the  table  with  the 
green  baize  cover  was  carried  out  into  the  centre  of  the  room, 
and  the  business  of  the  evening  was  commenced  by  a  little 
emphatic  man,  with  a  bald  head,  and  drab  shorts,  who  suddenly 
rushed  up  the  ladder,  at  the  imminent  peril  of  snapping  the 
two  little  legs  encased  in  the  drab  shorts,  and  said : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  move  our  excellent  brother,  Mr. 
Anthony  Humm,  into  the  chair." 

The  ladies  waved  a  choice  collection  of  pocket  handkerchiefs 
at  this  proposition ;  and  the  impetuous  little  man  literally 
moved  Mr.  Humm  into  the  chair,  by  taking  him  by  the 
shoulders  and  thrusting  him  into  a  mahogany- frame  which 
had  once  represented  that  article  of  furniture.  The  waving 
of  handkerchiefs  was  renewed;  and  Mr.  Humm,  who  was  a 
sleek,  white-faced  man,  in  a  perpetual  perspiration,  bowed 
meekly,  to  the  great  admiration  of  the  females,  and  formally 
took  his  seat.  Silence  was  then  proclaimed  by  the  little  man 
in  the  drab  shorts,  and  Mr.  Humm  rose  and  said — That, 
with  the  permission  of  his  Brick  Lane  Branch  brothers  and 
sisters,  then  and  there  present,  the  secretary  would  read  the 
report  of  the  Brick  Lane  Branch  committee ;  a  proposition 
which  was  again  received  with  a  demonstration  of  pocket- 
handkerchiefs. 

The  secretary  having  sneezed  in  a  very  impressive  manner, 
and  the  cough  which  always  seizes  an  assembly,  when  anything 


COMMITTEE'S  REPORT.  65 

particular  is  going  to  be  done,  having  been  duly  performed, 
the  following  document  was  read : 

"REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE  OF  THE  BRICK  LANE  BRANCH  OF 
THE  UNITED  GRAND  JUNCTION  EBENEZER  TEMPERANCE  ASSO- 
CIATION. 

"Your  committee  have  pursued  their  grateful  labours 
during  the  past  month,  and  have  the  unspeakable  pleasure 
of  reporting  the  following  additional  cases  of  converts  to 
Temperance. 

"H.  Walker,  tailor,  wife,  and  two  children.  When  in 
better  circumstances,  owns  to  having  been  in  the  constant 
habit  of  drinking  ale  and  beer ;  says  he  is  not  certain  whether 
he  did  not  twice  a  week,  for  twenty  years,  taste  'dog's  nose,' 
which  your  committee  find  upon  inquiry,  to  be  compounded 
of  warm  porter,  moist  sugar,  gin,  and  nutmeg  (a  groan,  and 
'So  it  is ! '  from  an  elderly  female.)  Is  now  out  of  work  and 
pennyless;  thinks  it  must  be  the  porter  (cheers)  or  the  loss 
of  the  use  of  his  right  hand ;  is  not  certain  which,  but  thinks 
it  very  likely  that,  if  he  had  drank  nothing  but  water  all  his 
life,  his  fellow  work-man  would  never  have  stuck  a  rusty 
needle  in  him,  and  thereby  occasioned  his  accident  (tremendous 
cheering).  Has  nothing  but  cold  water  to  drink,  and  never 
feels  thirsty  (great  applause). 

"Betsy  Martin,  widow,  one  child,  and  one  eye.  Goes  out 
charing  and  washing,  by  the  day ;  never  had  more  than  one 
eye,  but  knows  her  mother  drank  bottled  stout,  and  shouldn't 
wonder  if  that  caused  it  (immense  cheering).  Thinks  it  not 
impossible  that  if  she  had  always  abstained  from  spirits,  she 
might  have  had  two  eyes  by  this  time  (tremendous  applause). 
Used,  at  every  place  she  went  to,  to  have  eighteen  pence 
a  day,  a  pint  of  porter,  and  a  glass  of  spirits ;  but  since  she 
became  a  member  of  the  Brick  Lane  Branch,  has  always  de- 
manded three  and  sixpence  instead  (the  announcement  of  this 
most  interesting  fact  was  received  with  deafening  enthusiasm). 

"  Henry  Seller  was  for  many  years  toast-master  at  various 

VOL.   II.  F 


66  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

corporation  dinners,  during  which  time  he  drank  a  great  deal 
of  foreign  wine ;  may  sometimes  have  carried  a  bottle  or  two 
home  with  him ;  is  not  quite  certain  of  that,  but  is  sure  if 
he  did,  that  he  drank  the  contents.  Feels  very  low  and 
melancholy,  is  very  feverish,  and  has  a  constant  thirst  upon 
him ;  thinks  it  must  be  the  wine  he  used  to  drink  (cheers). 
Is  out  of  employ  now :  and  never  touches  a  drop  of  foreign 
wine  by  any  chance  (tremendous  plaudits). 

"Thomas  Burton  is  purveyor  of  cat's  meat  to  the  Lord 
Mayor  and  Sheriffs,  and  several  members  of  the  Common 
Council  (the  announcement  of  this  gentleman's  name  was 
received  with  breathless  interest).  Has  a  wooden  leg;  finds 
a  wooden  leg  expensive,  going  over  the  stones;  used  to  wear 
second-hand  Avooden  legs,  and  drink  a  glass  of  hot  gin  and 
water  regularly  every  night — sometimes  two  (deep  sighs). 
Found  the  second-hand  wooden  legs  split  and  rot  very  quickly ; 
is  firmly  persuaded  that  their  constitution  was  undermined 
by  the  gin  and  water  (prolonged  cheering).  Buys  new  wooden 
legs  now,  and  drinks  nothing  but  water  and  weak  tea.  The 
new  legs  last  twice  as  long  as  the  others  used  to  do,  and  he 
attributes  this  solely  to  his  temperate  habits  (triumphant 
cheers).11 

Anthony  Humm  now  moved  that  the  assembly  do  regale 
itself  with  a  song.  With  a  view  to  their  rational  and  moral 
enjoyment,  brother  Mordlin  had  adapted  the  beautiful  words 
of  "  Who  hasn't  heard  of  a  Jolly  Young  Waterman  ? "  to 
the  tune  of  the  Old  Hundredth,  which  he  would  request  them 
to  join  him  in  singing  (great  applause).  He  might  take 
that  opportunity  of  expressing  his  firm  persuasion  that  the 
late  Mr.  Dibdin,  seeing  the  errors  of  his  former  life,  had 
written  that  song  to  show  the  advantages  of  abstinence.  It 
was  a  temperance  song  (whirlwinds  of  cheers).  The  neatness 
of  the  young  man's  attire,  the  dexterity  of  his  feathering, 
the  enviable  state  of  mind  which  enabled  him  in  the  beautiful 
words  of  the  poet,,  to 

"  Row  along,  thinking  of  nothing  at  all," 


THE  SOFT  SEX.  67 

all  combined  to  prove  that  he  must  have  been  a  water-drinker 
(cheers).  Oh,  what  a  state  of  virtuous  jollity!  (rapturous 
cheering.)  And  what  was  the  young  man's  reward  ?  Let  all 
young  men  present  mark  this : 

"  The  maidens  all  flock'd  to  his  boat  so  readily." 

(Loud  cheers,  in  which  the  ladies  joined.)  What  a  bright 
example !  The  sisterhood,  the  maidens,  flocking  round  the 
young  waterman,  and  urging  him  along  the  stream  of  duty 
and  of  temperance.  But,  was  it  the  maidens  of  humble  life 
only,  who  soothed,  consoled,  and  supported  him?  No! 
"  He  was  always  first  oars  with  the  fine  city  ladies." 

(immense  cheering.)  The  soft  sex  to  a  man — he  begged 
pardon,  to  a  female — rallied  round  the  young  waterman,  and 
turned  with  disgust  from  the  drinker  of  spirits  (cheers).  The 
Brick  Lane  Branch  brothers  were  watermen  (cheers  and 
laughter). '  That  room  was  their  boat ;  that  audience  were 
the  maidens ;  and  he  (Mr.  Anthony  Humm),  however  un- 
worthily, was  "first  oars"  (unbounded  applause). 

"Wot  does  he  mean  by  the  soft  sex,  Sammy?11  inquired 
Mr.  Weller,  in  a  whisper. 

"The  womin,"  said  Sam,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  He  ain't  far  out  there,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller; 
"  they  must  be  a  soft  sex, — a  wery  soft  sex,  indeed — if  they 
let  themselves  be  gammoned  by  such  fellers  as  him." 

Any  further  observations  from  the  indignant  old  gentleman 
were  cut  short  by  the  announcement  of  the  song,  which  Mr. 
Anthony  Humm  gave  out,  two  lines  at  a  time,  for  the 
information  of  such  of  his  hearers  as  were  unacquainted  with 
the  legend.  While  it  was  being  sung,  the  little  man  with 
the  drab  shorts  disappeared;  he  returned  immediately  on  its 
conclusion,  and  whispered  Mr.  Anthony  Humm,  with  a  face 
of  the  deepest  importance. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Mr.  Humm,  holding  up  his  hand  in  a 
deprecatory  manner,  to  bespeak  the  silence  of  such  of  the 
stout  old  ladies  as  were  yet  a  line  or  two  behind ;  "  my  friends, 


68  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

a  delegate  from  the  Dorking  branch  of  our  society,  Brother 
Stiggins,  attends  below." 

Out  came  the  pocket-handkerchiefs  again,  in  greater  force 
than  ever;  for  Mr.  Stiggins  was  excessively  popular  among 
the  female  constituency  of  Brick  Lane. 

"He  may  approach,  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Humm,  looking 
round  him,  with  a  fat  smile.  "Brother  Tadger,  let  him 
come  forth  and  greet  us." 

The  little  man  in  the  drab  shorts  who  answered  to  the 
name  of  Brother  Tadger,  bustled  down  the  ladder  with  great 
speed,  and  was  immediately  afterwards  heard  tumbling  up 
with  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins. 

"He's  a  comin',  Sammy,"  whispered  Mr.  Weller,  purple  in 
the  countenance  with  suppressed  laughter. 

"Don't  say  nothin'  to  me,"  replied  Sam,  "for  I  can't  bear 
it.  He's  close  to  the  door.  I  heard  him  a-knockm1  his  head 
again  the  lath  and  plaster  now." 

As  Sam  Weller  spoke,  the  little  door  flew  open,  and  brother 
Tadger  appeared,  closely  followed  by  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins, 
who  no  sooner  entered,  than  there  was  a  great  clapping  of 
hands,  and  stamping  of  feet,  and  flourishing  of  handkerchiefs ; 
to  all  of  which  manifestations  of  delight,  Brother  Stiggins 
returned  no  other  acknowledgment  than  staring  with  a  wild 
eye,  and  a  fixed  smile,  at  the  extreme  top  of  the  wick  of  the 
candle  on  the  table :  swaying  his  body  to  and  fro,  meanwhile, 
in  a  very  unsteady  and  uncertain  manner. 

"  Are  you  unwell,  brother  Stiggins  ?  "  whispered  Mr.  Anthony 
Humm. 

"I  am  all  right,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Stiggins,  in  a  tone  in 
which  ferocity  was  blended  with  an  extreme  thickness  of 
utterance ;  "  I  am  all  right,  sir." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  rejoined  Mr.  Anthony  Humm,  retreating 
a  few  paces. 

"I  believe  no  man  here,  has  ventured  to  say  that  I  am 
not  all  right,  sir?"  said  Mr.  Stiggins. 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Humm. 


MR.   STIGGINS   IS  "ALL  RIGHT."  69 

"  I  should  advise  him  not  to,  sir ;  I  should  advise  him  not," 
said  Mr.  Stiggins. 

By  this  time  the  audience  were  perfectly  silent,  and  waited 
with  some  anxiety  for  the  resumption  of  business. 

""Will  you  address  the  meeting,  brother?"  said  Mr.  Humm, 
with  a  smile  of  invitation. 

"  No,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Stiggins ;  "  No,  sir.     I  will  not,  sir." 

The  meeting  looked  at  each  other  with  raised  eye-lids; 
and  a  murmur  of  astonishment  ran  through  the  room. 

"  It's  my  opinion,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  unbuttoning  his 
coat,  and  speaking  very  loudly;  "it's  my  opinion,  sir,  that 
this  meeting  is  drunk,  sir.  Brother  Tadger,  sir ! "  said  Mr. 
Stiggins,  suddenly  increasing  in  ferocity,  and  turning  sharp 
round  on  the  little  man  in  the  drab  shorts,  "«/OM  are  drunk, 
sir ! "  With  this,  Mr.  Stiggins,  entertaining  a  praiseworthy 
desire  to  promote  the  sobriety  of  the  meeting,  and  to  exclude 
therefrom  all  improper  characters,  hit  brother  Tadger  on  the 
summit  of  the  nose  with  such  unerring  aim,  that  the  drab 
shorts  disappeared  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  Brother  Tadger 
had  been  knocked,  head  first,  down  the  ladder. 

Upon  this,  the  women  set  up  a  loud  and  dismal  screaming ; 
and  rushing  in  small  parties  before  their  favourite  brothers, 
flung  their  arms  around  them  to  preserve  them  from  danger. 
An  instance  of  affection,  which  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to 
Humm,  who,  being  extremely  popular,  was  all  but  suffocated, 
by  the  crowd  of  female  devotees  that  hung  about  his  neck, 
and  heaped  caresses  upon  him.  The  greater  part  of  the  lights 
were  quickly  put  out,  and  nothing  but  noise  and  confusion 
resounded  on  all  sides. 

"  Now,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  taking  off  his  great  coat 
with  much  deliberation,  "just  you  step  out,  and  fetch  in  a 
watchman." 

"  And  wot  are  you  a  goin'  to  do,  the  while  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Never  you  mind  me,  Sammy,"  replied  the  old  gentleman ; 
"  I  shall  ockipy  myself  in  havin'  a  small  settlement  with  that 
'ere  Stiggins."  Before  Sam  could  interfere  to  prevent  it,  his 


70  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

heroic  parent  had  penetrated  into  a  remote  corner  of  the 
room,  and  attacked  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins  with  manual 
dexterity. 

"Come  off!"  said  Sam. 

"  Come  on  ! "  cried  Mr.  Weller ;  and  without  further  invita- 
tion he  gave  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins  a  preliminary  tap 
on  the  head,  and  began  dancing  round  him  in  a  buoyant  and 
cork-like  manner,  which  in  a  gentleman  at  his  time  of  life 
was  a  perfect  marvel  to  behold. 

Finding  all  remonstrance  unavailing,  Sam  pulled  his  hat 
firmly  on,  threw  his  father's  coat  over  his  arm,  and  taking 
the  old  man  round  the  waist,  forcibly  dragged  him  down  the 
ladder,  and  into  the  street ;  never  releasing  his  hold,  or  per- 
mitting him  to  stop,  until  they  reached  the  corner.  As  they 
gained  it,  they  could  hear  the  shouts  of  the  populace,  who 
were  witnessing  the  removal  of  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins  to 
strong  lodgings  for  the  night:  and  could  hear  the  noise 
occasioned  by  the  dispersion  in  various  directions  of  the 
members  of  the  Brick  Lane  Branch  of  the  United  Grand 
Junction  Ebenezer  Temperance  Association. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

IS    WHOLLY   DEVOTED    TO   A   FULL    AND   FAITHFUL   REPORT   OF   THE 
MEMORABLE   TRIAL    OF    BARDELL   AGAINST    PICKWICK. 

"  I  WONDER  what  the  foreman  of  the  jury,  whoever  he'll  be, 
has  got  for  breakfast,"  said  Mr.  Snodgrass,  by  way  of  keeping 
up  a  conversation  on  the  eventful  morning  of  the  fourteenth 
of  February. 

"  Ah ! "  said  Perker,  "  I  hope  he's  got  a  good  one." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Highly  important ;  very  important,  my  dear  sir,"  replied 
Perker.  "A  good,  contented,  well-breakfasted  juryman,  is 
a  capital  thing  to  get  hold  of.  Discontented  or  hungry 
jurymen,  my  dear  sir,  always  find  for  the  plaintiff." 

"Bless  my  heart,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  very  blank; 
"what  do  they  do  that  for?" 

"Why,  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  little  man,  coolly; 
"  saves  time,  I  suppose.  If  it's  near  dinner-time,  the  foreman 
takes  out  his  watch  when  the  jury  has  retired,  and  says, 
'  Dear  me,  gentlemen,  ten  minutes  to  five,  I  declare !  I  dine 
at  five,  gentlemen.'  'So  do  I,'  says  every  body  else,  except 
two  men  who  ought  to  have  dined  at  three,  and  seem  more 
than  half  disposed  to  stand  out  in  consequence.  The  foreman 
smiles,  and  puts  up  his  watch: — 'Well,  gentlemen,  what  do 
we  say,  plaintiff  or  defendant,  gentlemen?  I  rather  think, 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  gentlemen, — I  say,  I  rather  think, 
— but  don't  let  that  influence  you — I  rather  think  the 


72  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

plaintiff's  the  man.'  Upon  this,  two  or  three  other  men  are 
sure  to  say  that  they  think  so  too — as  of  course  they  do; 
and  then  they  get  on  very  unanimously  and  comfortably. 
Ten  minutes  past  nine ! "  said  the  little  man,  looking  at  his 
watch.  "Time  we  were  off,  my  dear  sir;  breach  of  promise 
trial — court  is  generally  full  in  such  cases.  You  had  better 
ring  for  a  coach,  my  dear  sir,  or  we  shall  be  rather  late." 

Mr.  Pickwick  immediately  rang  the  bell ;  and  a  coach  having 
been  procured,  the  four  Pickwickians  and  Mr.  Perker  ensconced 
themselves  therein,  and  drove  to  Guildhall ;  Sam  Weller,  Mr. 
Lowten,  and  the  blue  bag,  following  in  a  cab. 

"  Lowten,"  said  Perker,  when  they  reached  the  outer  hall 
of  the  court,  "put  Mr.  Pickwick's  friends  in  the  students' 
box;  Mr.  Pickwick  himself  had  better  sit  by  me.  This  way, 
my  dear  sir,  this  way."  Taking  Mr.  Pickwick  by  the  coat- 
sleeve,  the  little  man  led  him  to  the  low  seat  just  beneath 
the  desks  of  the  King's  Counsel,  which  is  constructed  for  the 
convenience  of  attorneys,  who  from  that  spot  can  whisper 
into  the  ear  of  the  leading  counsel  in  the  case,  any  instruc- 
tions that  may  be  necessary  during  the  progress  of  the  trial. 
The  occupants  of  this  seat  are  invisible  to  the  great  body 
of  spectators,  inasmuch  as  they  sit  on  a  much  lower  level 
than  either  the  barristers  or  the  audience,  whose  seats  are 
raised  above  the  floor.  Of  course  they  have  their  backs  to 
both,  and  their  faces  towards  the  judge. 

"That's  the  witness-box,  I  suppose?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
pointing  to  a  kind  of  pulpit,  with  a  brass  rail,  on  his  left  hand. 

"That's  the  witness-box,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Perker, 
disinterring  a  quantity  of  papers  from  the  blue  bag,  which 
Lowten  had  just  deposited  at  his  feet. 

"And  that,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  pointing  to  a  couple  of 
enclosed  seats  on  his  right,  "that's  where  the  jurymen  sit, 
is  it  not?" 

"  The  identical  place,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Perker,  tapping 
the  lid  of  his  snuff-box. 

Mr.  Pickwick  stood  up  in  a  state  of  great  agitation,  and 


IN  COURT.  73 

took  a  glance  at  the  court.  There  were  already  a  pretty  large 
sprinkling  of  spectators  in  the  gallery,  and  a  numerous  muster 
of  gentlemen  in  wigs,  in  the  barristers1  seats :  who  presented, 
as  a  body,  all  that  pleasing  and  extensive  variety  of  nose  and 
whisker  for  which  the  bar  of  England  is  so  justly  celebrated. 
Such  of  the  gentlemen  as  had  a  brief  to  carry,  carried  it  in 
as  conspicuous  a  manner  as  possible,  and  occasionally  scratched 
their  noses  therewith,  to  impress  the  fact  more  strongly  on 
the  observation  of  the  spectators.  Other  gentlemen,  who  had 
no  briefs  to  show,  carried  under  their  arms  goodly  octavos, 
with  a  red  label  behind,  and  that  underdone-pie-crust-coloured 
cover,  which  is  technically  known  as  "  law  calf."  Others,  who 
had  neither  briefs  nor  books,  thrust  their  hands  into  their 
pockets,  and  looked  as  wise  as  they  conveniently  could ;  others, 
again,  moved  here  and  there  with  great  restlessness  and 
earnestness  of  manner,  content  to  awaken  thereby  the  admira- 
tion and  astonishment  of  the  uninitiated  strangers.  The 
whole,  to  the  great  wonderment  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  were  divided 
into  little  groups,  who  were  chatting  and  discussing  the  news 
of  the  day  in  the  most  unfeeling  manner  possible, — just  as 
if  no  trial  at  all  were  coming  on. 

A  bow  from  Mr.  Phunky,  as  he  entered,  and  took  his  seat 
behind  the  row  appropriated  to  the  King's  Counsel,  attracted 
Mr.  Pickwick's  attention;  and  he  had  scarcely  returned  it, 
when  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin  appeared,  followed  by  Mr. 
Mallard,  who  half  hid  the  Serjeant  behind  a  large  crimson 
bag,  which  he  placed  on  his  table,  and,  after  shaking  hands 
with  Perker,  withdrew.  Then  there  entered  two  or  three 
more  Serjeants ;  and  among  them,  one  with  a  fat  body  and 
a  red  face,  who  nodded  in  a  friendly  manner  to  Mr.  Serjeant 
Snubbin,  and  said  it  was  a  fine  morning. 

"  Who's  that  red-faced  man,  who  said  it  was  a  fine  morning, 
and  nodded  to  our  counsel  ? "  whispered  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz,"  replied  Perker.  "  He's  opposed  to 
us ;  he  leads  on  the  other  side.  That  gentleman  behind  him 
is  Mr.  Skimpin,  his  junior." 


74  THE   PICKWICK   CLUB. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  on  the  point  of  inquiring,  with  great 
abhorrence  of  the  man's  cold-blooded  villany,  how  Mr.  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  who  was  counsel  for  the  opposite  party,  dared  to 
presume  to  tell  Mr.  Serjeant  Snubbin,  who  was  counsel  for 
him,  that  it  was  a  fine  morning,  when  he  was  interrupted 
by  a  general  rising  of  the  barristers,  and  a  loud  cry  of 
"  Silence ! "  from  the  officers  of  the  court.  Looking  round, 
he  found  that  this  was  caused  by  the  entrance  of  the  judge. 

Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh  (who  sat  in  the  absence  of  the  Chief 
Justice,  occasioned  by  indisposition),  was  a  most  particularly 
short  man,  and  so  fat,  that  he  seemed  all  face  and  waistcoat. 
He  rolled  in,  upon  two  little  turned  legs,  and  having  bobbed 
gravely  to  the  bar,  who  bobbed  gravely  to  him,  put  his  little 
legs  underneath  his  table,  and  his  little  three-cornered  hat 
upon  it;  and  when  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh  had  done  this,  all 
you  could  see  of  him  was  two  queer  little  eyes,  one  broad 
pink  face,  and  somewhere  about  half  of  a  big  and  very 
comical-looking  wig. 

The  judge  had  no  sooner  taken  his  seat,  than  the  officer 
on  the  floor  of  the  court  called  out  "  Silence ! "  in  a  com- 
manding tone,  upon  which  another  officer  in  the  gallery  cried 
"Silence!"  in  an  angry  manner,  whereupon  three  or  four 
more  ushers  shouted  "  Silence ! "  in  a  voice  of  indignant 
remonstrance.  This  being  done,  a  gentleman  in  black,  who 
sat  below  the  judge,  proceeded  to  call  over  the  names  of  the 
jury;  and  after  a  great  deal  of  bawling,  it  was  discovered 
that  only  ten  special  jurymen  were  present.  Upon  this,  Mr. 
Sergeant  Buzfuz  prayed  a  tales;  the  gentleman  in  black  then 
proceeded  to  press  into  the  special  jury,  two  of  the  common 
jurymen;  and  a  green-grocer  and  a  chemist  were  caught 
directly. 

"Answer  to  your  names,  gentlemen,  that  you  may  be 
sworn,"  said  the  gentleman  in  black.  "Richard  Upwitch." 

"  Here,"  said  the  green-grocer. 

"Thomas  Groffin." 

"  Here,"  said  the  chemist. 


THE   CHEMIST  SWORN  ON  THE  JURY.       75 

"Take  the  book,  gentlemen.  You  shall  well  and  truly 
try—" 

"I  beg  this  court's  pardon,"  said  the  chemist,  who  was  a 
tall,  thin,  yellow-visaged  man,  "  but  I  hope  this  court  will 
excuse  my  attendance.1'1 

"  On  what  grounds,  sir  ? "  said  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh. 

"  I  have  no  assistant,  my  Lord,"  said  the  chemist. 

"I  can't  help  that,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh. 
"  You  should  hire  one." 

"  I  can't  afford  it,  my  Lord,"  rejoined  the  chemist. 

"Then  you  ought  to  be  able  to  afford  it,  sir,"  said  the 
judge,  reddening;  for  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh's  temper  bordered 
on  the  irritable,  and  brooked  not  contradiction. 

"I  know  I  ought  to  do,  if  I  got  on  as  well  as  I  deserved, 
but  I  don't,  my  Lord,"  answered  the  chemist. 

"  Swear  the  gentleman,"  said  the  judge,  peremptorily. 

The  officer  had  got  no  further  than  the  "  You  shall  well 
and  truly  try,"  when  he  was  again  interrupted  by  the  chemist. 

"  I  am  to  be  sworn,  my  Lord,  am  I  ? "  said  the  chemist. 

"Certainly,  sir,"  replied  the  testy  little  judge. 

"Very  well,  my  Lord,"  replied  the  chemist,  in  a  resigned 
manner.  "Then  there'll  be  murder  before  this  trial's  over; 
that's  all.  Swear  me,  if  you  please,  sir;"  and  sworn  the 
chemist  was,  before  the  judge  could  find  words  to  utter. 

"  I  merely  wanted  to  observe,  my  Lord,"  said  the  chemist, 
taking  his  seat  with  great  deliberation,  "  that  I've  left  nobody 
but  an  errand-boy  in  my  shop.  He  is  a  very  nice  boy,  my 
Lord,  but  he  is  not  acquainted  with  drugs;  and  I  know 
that  the  prevailing  impression  on  his  mind  is,  that  Epsom 
salts  means  oxalic  acid;  and  syrup  of  senna,  laudanum. 
That's  all,  my  Lord."  With  this,  the  tall  chemist  composed 
himself  into  a  comfortable  attitude,  and,  assuming  a  pleasant 
expression  of  countenance,  appeared  to  have  prepared  himself 
for  the  worst. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  regarding  the  chemist  with  feelings  of 
the  deepest  horror,  when  a  slight  sensation  was  perceptible 


76  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

in  the  body  of  the  court ;  and  immediately  afterwards  Mrs. 
Bardell,  supported  by  Mrs.  Cluppins,  was  led  in,  and  placed, 
in  a  drooping  state,  at  the  other  end  of  the  seat  on  which 
Mr.  Pickwick  sat.  An  extra  sized  umbrella  was  then  handed 
in  by  Mr.  Dodson,  and  a  pair  of  pattens  by  Mr.  Fogg,  each 
of  whom  had  prepared  a  most  sympathising  and  melancholy 
face  for  the  occasion.  Mrs.  Sanders  then  appeared,  leading 
in  Master  Bardell.  At  sight  of  her  child,  Mrs.  Bardell 
started;  suddenly  recollecting  herself,  she  kissed  him  in  a 
frantic  manner;  then  relapsing  into  a  state  of  hysterical 
imbecility,  the  good  lady  requested  to  be  informed  where 
she  was.  In  reply  to  this,  Mrs.  Cluppins  and  Mrs.  Sanders 
turned  their  heads  away  and  wept,  while  Messrs.  Dodson 
and  Fogg  intreated  the  plaintiff  to  compose  herself.  Serjeant 
Buzfuz  rubbed  his  eyes  very  hard  with  a  large  white  hand- 
kerchief, and  gave  an  appealing  look  towards  the  jury,  while 
the  judge  was  visibly  affected,  and  several  of  the  beholders 
tried  to  cough  down  their  emotions. 

"Very  good  notion  that,  indeed,"  whispered  Perker  to  Mr. 
Pickwick.  "  Capital  fellows  those  Dodson  and  Fogg ;  excellent 
ideas  of  effect,  my  dear  sir,  excellent." 

As  Perker  spoke,  Mrs.  Bardell  began  to  recover  by  slow 
degrees,  while  Mrs.  Cluppins,  after  a  careful  survey  of  Master 
BardelPs  buttons  and  the  button-holes  to  which  they  severally 
belonged,  placed  him  on  the  floor  of  the  court  in  front  of  his 
mother, — a  commanding  position  in  which  he  could  not  fail 
to  awaken  the  full  commiseration  and  sympathy  of  both  judge 
and  jury.  This  was  not  done  without  considerable  opposition, 
and  many  tears,  on  the  part  of  the  young  gentleman  himself, 
who  had  certain  inward  misgivings  that  the  placing  him  within 
the  full  glare  of  the  judge's  eye  was  only  a  formal  prelude  to 
his  being  immediately  ordered  away  for  instant  execution,  or 
for  transportation  beyond  the  seas,  during  the  whole  term  of 
his  natural  life,  at  the  very  least. 

"  Bardell  and  Pickwick,"  cried  the  gentleman  in  black, 
calling  on  the  case,  which  stood  first  on  the  list. 


THE  PLAINTIFFS  CASE  OPENED.  77 

"  I  am  for  the  plaintiff,  my  Lord,11  said  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz. 

"  Who  is  with  you,  brother  Buzfuz  ?  "  said  the  judge.  Mr. 
Skimpin  bowed,  to  intimate  that  he  was. 

"  I  appear  for  the  defendant,  my  Lord,"  said  Mr.  Serjeant 
Snubbin. 

"  Anybody  with  you,  brother  Snubbin  ?  "  inquired  the  court. 

"Mr.  Phunky,  my  Lord,11  replied  Serjeant  Snubbin. 

"Serjeant  Buzfuz  and  Mr.  Skimpin  for  the  plaintiff,11  said 
the  judge,  writing  down  the  names  in  his  note-book,  and 
reading  as  he  wrote;  "for  the  defendant,  Serjeant  Snubbin 
and  Mr.  Monkey.11 

"Beg  your  Lordship^  pardon,  Phunky.11 

"  Oh,  very  good,"  said  the  judge ;  "  I  never  had  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  the  gentleman's  name  before.11  Here  Mr.  Phunky 
bowed  and  smiled,  and  the  judge  bowed  and  smiled  too,  and 
then  Mr.  Phunky,  blushing  into  the  very  whites  of  his  eyes, 
tried  to  look  as  if  he  didn't  know  that  everybody  was  gazing 
at  him :  a  thing  which  no  man  ever  succeeded  in  doing  yet, 
or  in  all  reasonable  probability,  ever  will. 

"  Go  on,11  said  the  judge. 

The  ushers  again  called  silence,  and  Mr.  Skimpin  proceeded 
to  "  open  the  case ; "  and  the  case  appeared  to  have  very  little 
inside  it  when  he  had  opened  it,  for  he  kept  such  particulars 
as  he  knew,  completely  to  himself,  and  sat  down,  after  a 
lapse  of  three  minutes,  leaving  the  jury  in  precisely  the  same 
advanced  stage  of  wisdom  as  they  were  in  before. 

Serjeant  Buzfuz  then  rose  with  all  the  majesty  and  dignity 
which  the  grave  nature  of  the  proceedings  demanded,  and 
having  whispered  to  Dodson,  and  conferred  briefly  with 
Fogg,  pulled  his  gown  over  his  shoulders,  settled  his  wig, 
and  addressed  the  jury. 

Serjeant  Buzfuz  began  by  saying,  that  never,  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  professional  experience — never,  from  the  very 
first  moment  of  his  applying  himself  to  the  study  and  practice 
of  the  law — had  he  approached  a  case  with  feelings  of  such 
deep  emotion,  or  with  such  a  heavy  sense  of  the  responsibility 


78  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

imposed  upon  him — a  responsibility,  he  would  say,  which  he 
could  never  have  supported,  were  he  not  buoyed  up  and  sus- 
tained by  a  conviction  so  strong,  that  it  amounted  to  positive 
certainty  that  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  cause  of  his  much-injured  and  most  oppressed 
client,  must  prevail  with  the  high-minded  and  intelligent 
dozen  of  men  whom  he  now  saw  in  that  box  before  him. 

Counsel  usually  begin  in  this  way,  because  it  puts  the  jury 
on  the  very  best  terms  with  themselves,  and  makes  them 
think  what  sharp  fellows  they  must  be.  A  visible  effect  was 
produced  immediately;  several  jurymen  beginning  to  take 
voluminous  notes  with  the  utmost  eagerness. 

"  You  have  heard  from  my  learned  friend,  gentlemen,"  con- 
tinued Serjeant  Buzfuz,  well  knowing  that,  from  the  learned 
friend  alluded  to,  the  gentlemen  of  the  jury  had  heard  just 
nothing  at  all — "you  have  heard  from  my  learned  friend, 
gentlemen,  that  this  is  an  action  for  a  breach  of  promise  of 
marriage,  in  which  the  damages  are  laid  at  ,£1,500.  But 
you  have  not  heard  from  my  learned  friend,  inasmuch  as 
it  did  not  come  within  my  learned  friend's  province  to  tell 
you,  what  are  the  facts  and  circumstances  of  the  case.  Those 
facts  and  circumstances,  gentlemen,  you  shall  hear  detailed 
by  me,  and  proved  by  the  unimpeachable  female  whom  I 
will  place  in  that  box  before  you.1' 

Here  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  with  a  tremendous  emphasis  on 
the  word  "box,"  smote  his  table  with  a  mighty  sound,  and 
glanced  at  Dodson  and  Fogg,  who  nodded  admiration  of  the 
serjeant,  and  indignant  defiance  of  the  defendant. 

"The  plaintiff,  gentlemen,"  continued  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  in 
a  soft  and  melancholy  voice,  "the  plaintiff  is  a  widow;  yes, 
gentlemen,  a  widow.  The  late  Mr.  Bardell,  after  enjoying, 
for  many  years,  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  his  sovereign, 
as  one  of  the  guardians  of  his  royal  revenues,  glided  almost 
imperceptibly  from  the  world,  to  seek  elsewhere  for  that 
repose  and  peace  which  a  custom-house  can  never  afford." 

At  this  pathetic  description  of  the  decease  of  Mr.  Bardell, 


SERJEANT  BUZFUZ  CONTINUES.  79 

who  had  been  knocked  on  the  head  with  a  quart-pot  in  a 
public-house  cellar,  the  learned  Serjeant's  voice  faltered,  and 
he  proceeded  with  emotion : 

"  Some  time  before  his  death,  he  had  stamped  his  likeness 
upon  a  little  boy.  With  this  little  boy,  the  only  pledge  of 
her  departed  exciseman,  Mrs.  Bardell  shrunk  from  the  world, 
and  courted  the  retirement  and  tranquillity  of  Goswell  Street ; 
and  here  she  placed  in  her  front  parlour-window  a  written 
placard,  bearing  this  inscription — '  Apartments  furnished  for 
a  single  gentleman.  Inquire  within.''"  Here  Serjeant  Buzfuz 
paused,  while  several  gentlemen  of  the  jury  took  a  note  of 
the  document. 

"  There  is  no  date  to  that,  is  there,  sir  ? "  inquired  a  juror. 

"  There  is  no  date,  gentlemen,11  replied  Serjeant  Buzfuz ; 
"  but  I  am  instructed  to  say  that  it  was  put  in  the  plaintiffs 
parlour- window  just  this  time  three  years.  I  intreat  the 
attention  of  the  jury  to  the  wording  of  this  document. 
'  Apartments  furnished  for  a  single  gentleman  "* !  Mrs.  BardelFs 
opinions  of  the  opposite  sex,  gentlemen,  were  derived  from 
a  long  contemplation  of  the  inestimable  qualities  of  her  lost 
husband.  She  had  no  fear,  she  had  no  distrust,  she  had  no 
suspicion,  all  was  confidence  and  reliance.  *Mr.  Bardell,1 
said  the  widow;  'Mr.  Bardell  was  a  man  of  honour,  Mr. 
Bardell  was  a  man  of  his  word,  Mr.  Bardell  was  no  deceiver, 
Mr.  Bardell  was  once  a  single  gentleman  himself;  to  single 
gentlemen  I  look  for  protection,  for  assistance,  for  comfort, 
and  for  consolation;  in  single  gentlemen  I  shall  perpetually 
see  something  to  remind  me  of  what  Mr.  Bardell  was,  when 
he  first  won  my  young  and  untried  affections;  to  a  single 
gentleman,  then,  shall  my  lodgings  be  let.1  Actuated  by  this 
beautiful  and  touching  impulse  (among  the  best  impulses  of 
our  imperfect  nature,  gentlemen,)  the  lonely  and  desolate 
widow  dried  her  tears,  furnished  her  first  floor,  caught  the 
innocent  boy  to  her  maternal  bosom,  and  put  the  bill  up  in 
her  parlour- window.  Did  it  remain  there  long?  No.  The 
serpent  was  on  the  watch,  the  train  was  laid,  the  mine  was 


80  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

preparing,  the  sapper  and  miner  was  at  work.  Before  the 
bill  had  been  in  the  parlour-window  three  days — three  days 
— gentlemen — a  Being,  erect  upon  two  legs,  and  bearing  all 
the  outward  semblance  of  a  man,  and  not  of  a  monster, 
knocked  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  BardelPs  house.  He  inquired 
within ;  he  took  the  lodgings ;  and  on  the  very  next  day  he 
entered  into  possession  of  them.  This  man  was  Pickwick — 
Pickwick,  the  defendant.1' 

Serjeant  Buzfuz,  who  had  proceeded  with  such  volubility 
that  his  face  was  perfectly  crimson,  here  paused  for  breath. 
The  silence  awoke  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh,  who  immediately 
wrote  down  something  with  a  pen  without  any  ink  in  it, 
and  looked  unusually  profound,  to  impress  the  jury  with 
the  belief  that  he  always  thought  most  deeply  with  his  eyes 
shut.  Serjeant  Buzfuz  proceeded. 

"Of  this  man  Pickwick  I  will  say  little;  the  subject 
presents  but  few  attractions ;  and  I,  gentlemen,  am  not  the 
man,  nor  are  you,  gentlemen,  the  men,  to  delight  in  the 
contemplation  of  revolting  heartlessness,  and  of  systematic 
villany.11 

Here  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  been  writhing  in  silence  for 
some  time,  gave  a  violent  start,  as  if  some  vague  idea  of 
assaulting  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  in  the  august  presence  of  justice 
and  law,  suggested  itself  to  his  mind.  An  admonitory  gesture 
from  Perker  restrained  him,  and  he  listened  to  the  learned 
gentleman's  continuation  with  a  look  of  indignation,  which 
contrasted  forcibly  with  the  admiring  faces  of  Mrs.  Cluppins 
and  Mrs.  Sanders. 

"  I  say  systematic  villany,  gentlemen,11  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz, 
looking  through  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  talking  at  him;  "and 
when  I  say  systematic  villany,  let  me  tell  the  defendant  Pick- 
wick, if  he  be  in  court,  as  I  am  informed  he  is,  that  it  would 
have  been  more  decent  in  him,  more  becoming,  in  better 
judgment,  and  in  better  taste,  if  he  had  stopped  away.  Let 
me  tell  him,  gentlemen,  that  any  gestures  of  dissent  or  dis- 
approbation in  which  he  may  indulge  in  this  court  will  not 


A  LITTLE   DIVERGENCE.  81 

go  down  with  you;  that  you  will  know  how  to  value  and 
how  to  appreciate  them ;  and  let  me  tell  him  further,  as  my 
lord  will  tell  you,  gentlemen,  that  a  counsel,  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty  to  his  client,  is  neither  to  be  intimidated  nor 
bullied,  nor  put  down;  and  that  any  attempt  to  do  either 
the  one  or  the  other,  or  the  first,  or  the  last,  will  recoil  on 
the  head  of  the  attempter,  be  he  plaintiff  or  be  he  defendant, 
be  his  name  Pickwick,  or  Noakes,  or  Stoakes,  or  Stiles,  or 
Brown,  or  Thompson." 

This  little  divergence  from  the  subject  in  hand,  had  of 
course,  the  intended  effect  of  turning  all  eyes  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. Sergeant  Buzfuz,  having  partially  recovered  from  the 
state  of  moral  elevation  into  which  he  had  lashed  himself, 
resumed . 

"  I  shall  show  you,  gentlemen,  that  for  two  years  Pickwick 
continued  to  reside  constantly,  and  without  interruption  or 
intermission,  at  Mrs.  BardelFs  house.  I  shall  show  you  that 
Mrs.  Bardell,  during  the  whole  of  that  time  waited  on  him, 
attended  to  his  comforts,  cooked  his  meals,  looked  out  his 
linen  for  the  washerwoman  when  it  went  abroad,  darned, 
aired,  and  prepared  it  for  wear,  when  it  came  home,  and,  in 
short,  enjoyed  his  fullest  trust  and  confidence.  I  shall  show 
you  that,  on  many  occasions,  he  gave  halfpence,  and  on 
some  occasions  even  sixpences,  to  her  little  boy ;  and  I  shall 
prove  to  you,  by  a  witness  whose  testimony  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  my  learned  friend  to  weaken  or  controvert,  that 
on  one  occasion  he  patted  the  boy  on  the  head,  and,  after 
inquiring  whether  he  had  won  any  alley  tors  or  commoneys 
lately  (both  of  which  I  understand  to  be  a  particular  species 
of  marbles  much  prized  by  the  youth  of  this  town),  made  use 
of  this  remarkable  expression :  *  How  should  you  like  to 
have  another  father?1  I  shall  prove  to  you,  gentlemen,  that 
about  a  year  ago,  Pickwick  suddenly  began  to  absent  himself 
from  home,  during  long  intervals,  as  if  with  the  intention  of 
gradually  breaking  off  from  my  client ;  but  I  shall  show  you 
also,  that  his  resolution  was  not  at  that  time  sufficiently 

VOL.   II  G 


82  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

strong,  or  that  his  better  feelings  conquered,  if  better  feelings 
he  has,  or  that  the  charms  and  accomplishments  of  my 
client  prevailed  against  his  unmanly  intentions;  by  proving 
to  you,  that  on  one  occasion,  when  he  returned  from  the 
country,  he  distinctly  and  in  terms,  offered  her  marriage : 
previously  however,  taking  special  care  that  there  should  be 
no  witness  to  their  solemn  contract;  and  I  am  in  a  situation 
to  prove  to  you,  on  the  testimony  of  three  of  his  own  friends, 
— most  unwilling  witnesses,  gentlemen  —  most  unwilling 
witnesses — that  on  that  morning  he  was  discovered  by  them 
holding  the  plaintiff  in  his  arms,  and  soothing  her  agitation 
by  his  caresses  and  endearments."" 

A  visible  impression  was  produced  upon  the  auditors  by 
this  part  of  the  learned  Serjeant's  address.  Drawing  forth 
two  very  small  scraps  of  paper,  he  proceeded : 

"And  now,  gentlemen,  but  one  word  more.  Two  letters 
have  passed  between  these  parties,  letters  which  are  admitted 
to  be  in  the  hand-writing  of  the  defendant,  and  which  speak 
volumes  indeed.  These  letters,  too,  bespeak  the  character 
of  the  man.  They  are  not  open,  fervent,  eloquent  epistles, 
breathing  nothing  but  the  language  of  affectionate  attach- 
ment. They  are  covert,  sly,  underhanded  communications,  but, 
fortunately,  far  more  conclusive  than  if  couched  in  the  most 
glowing  language  and  the  most  poetic  imagery — letters  that 
must  be  viewed  with  a  cautious  and  suspicious  eye — letters 
that  were  evidently  intended  at  the  time,  by  Pickwick,  to 
mislead  and  delude  any  third  parties  into  whose  hands  they 
might  fall.  Let  me  read  the  first : — *  Garraway's,  twelve 
o'clock.  Dear  Mrs.  B. — Chops  and  Tomata  sauce.  Yours, 
PICKWICK.'  Gentlemen,  what  does  this  mean?  Chops  and 
Tomata  sauce.  Yours,  Pickwick !  Chops  !  Gracious  heavens  ! 
and  Tomata  sauce !  Gentlemen,  is  the  happiness  of  a  sensitive 
and  confiding  female  to  be  trifled  away,  by  such  shallow 
artifices  as  these  ?  The  next  has  no  date  whatever,  which  is 
in  itself  suspicious.  '  Dear  Mrs.  B.,  I  shall  not  be  at  home 
till  to-morrow.  Slow  coach.'  And  then  follows  this  very 


SERJEANT  BUZFUZ  CONCLUDES.  83 

remarkable  expression.  *  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  the 
warming-pan.'  The  warming  pan!  Why,  gentlemen,  who 
does  trouble  himself  about  a  warming-pan?  When  was  the 
peace  of  mind  of  man  or  Woman  broken  or  disturbed  by  a 
warming-pan,  which  is  in  itself  a  harmless,  a  useful,  and  I 
will  add,  gentlemen,  a  comforting  article  of  domestic  furniture  ? 
Why  is  Mrs.  Bardell  so  earnestly  entreated  not  to  agitate 
herself  about  this  warming-pan,  unless  (as  is  no  doubt  the 
case)  it  is  a  mere  cover  for  hidden  fire — a  mere  substitute 
for  some  endearing  word  or  promise,  agreeably  to  a  precon- 
certed system  of  correspondence,  artfully  contrived  by  Pick- 
wick with  a  view  to  his  contemplated  desertion,  and  which  I 
am  not  in  a  condition  to  explain  ?  And  what  does  this 
allusion  to  the  slow  coach  mean  ?  For  aught  I  know,  it  may 
be  a  reference  to  Pickwick  himself,  who  has  most  unquestionably 
been  a  criminally  slow  coach  during  the  whole  of  this  transac- 
tion, but  whose  speed  will  now  be  very  unexpectedly  accele- 
rated, and  whose  wheels,  gentlemen,  as  he  will  find  to  his 
cost,  will  very  soon  be  greased  by  you ! " 

Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz  paused  in  this  place,  to  see  whether 
the  jury  smiled  at  his  joke;  but  as  nobody  took  it  but  the 
green-grocer,  whose  sensitiveness  on  the  subject  was  very 
probably  occasioned  by  his  having  subjected  a  chaise-cart 
to  the  process  in  question  on  that  identical  morning,  the 
learned  serjeant  considered  it  advisable  to  undergo  a  slight 
relapse  into  the  dismals  before  he  concluded. 

"  But  enough  of  this,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz, 
"it  is  difficult  to  smile  with  an  aching  heart;  it  is  ill  jesting 
when  our  deepest  sympathies  are  awakened.  My  client's 
hopes  and  prospects  are  ruined,  and  it  is  no  figure  of  speech 
to  say  that  her  occupation  is  gone  indeed.  The  bill  is  down 
— but  there  is  no  tenant.  Eligible  single  gentlemen  pass 
and  repass — but  there  is  no  invitation  for  them  to  inquire 
within  or  without.  All  is  gloom  and  silence  in  the  house; 
even  the  voice  of  the  child  is  hushed ;  his  infant  sports  are 
disregarded  when  his  mother  weeps;  his  'alley  tors1  and 


84  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

his  'commoneys'  are  alike  neglected;  he  forgets  the  long 
familiar  cry  of  '  knuckle  down,1  and  at  tip-cheese,  or  odd  and 
even,  his  hand  is  out.  But  Pickwick,  gentlemen,  Pickwick, 
the  ruthless  destroyer  of  this  domestic  oasis  in  the  desert  of 
Goswell  Street — Pickwick,  who  has  choked  up  the  well,  and 
thrown  ashes  on  the  sward — Pickwick,  who  comes  before  you 
to-day  with  his  heartless  Tomata  sauce  and  warming-pans — 
Pickwick  still  rears  his  head  with  unblushing  effrontery,  and 
gazes  without  a  sigh  on  the  ruin  he  has  made.  Damages, 
gentlemen — heavy  damages — is  the  only  punishment  with 
which  you  can  visit  him ;  the  only  recompence  you  can  award 
to  my  client.  And  for  those  damages  she  now  appeals  to  an 
enlightened,  a  high-minded,  a  right-feeling,  a  conscientious,  a 
dispassionate,  a  sympathising,  a  contemplative  jury  of  her 
civilised  countrymen."  With  this  beautiful  peroration,  Mr. 
Serjeant  Buzfuz  sat  down,  and  Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh  woke  up. 

"  Call  Elizabeth  Cluppins,"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  rising  a 
minute  afterwards,  with  renewed  vigour. 

The  nearest  usher  called  for  Elizabeth  Tuppins;  another 
one,  at  a  little  distance  off,  demanded  Elizabeth  Jupkins ;  and 
a  third  rushed  in  a  breathless  state  into  King  Street,  and 
screamed  for  Elizabeth  Muffins  till  he  was  hoarse. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Cluppins,  with  the  combined  assistance  of 
Mrs.  Bardell,  Mrs.  Sanders,  Mr.  Dodson,  and  Mr.  Fogg,  was 
hoisted  into  the  witness-box ;  and  when  she  was  safely  perched 
on  the  top  step,  Mrs.  Bardell  stood  on  the  bottom  one,  with 
the  pocket-handkerchief  and  pattens  in  one  hand,  and  a  glass 
bottle  that  might  hold  about  a  quarter  of  a  pint  of  smelling 
salts  in  the  other,  ready  for  any  emergency.  Mrs.  Sanders, 
whose  eyes  were  intently  fixed  on  the  judge's  face,  planted 
herself  close  by,  with  the  large  umbrella:  keeping  her  right 
thumb  pressed  on  the  spring  with  an  earnest  countenance,  as 
if  she  were  fully  prepared  to  put  it  up  at  a  moment's  notice. 

"Mrs.  Cluppins,"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  "pray  com- 
pose yourself,  ma'am.1'  Of  course,  directly  Mrs.  Cluppins 
was  desired  to  compose  herself  she  sobbed  with  increased 


MRS.  CLUPPINS   IN  THE  BOX.  85 

vehemence,  and  gave  divers  alarming  manifestations  of  an 
approaching  fainting  fit,  or,  as  she  afterwards  said,  of  her 
feelings  being  too  many  for  her. 

"Do  you  recollect,  Mrs.  Cluppins?"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz, 
after  a  few  unimportant  questions,  "do  you  recollect  being 
in  Mrs.  Bardell's  back  one  pair  of  stairs,  on  one  particular 
morning  in  July  last,  when  she  was  dusting  Pickwick's 
apartment  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  Lord  and  Jury,  I  do,"  replied  Mrs.  Cluppins. 

"Mr.  Pickwick's  sitting-room  was  the  first-floor  front,  I 
believe  ?  " 

"Yes,  it  were,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Cluppins. 

"What  were  you  doing  in  the  back  room,  ma'am?""  in- 
quired the  little  judge. 

"  My  Lord  and  Jury,"  said  Mrs.  Cluppins,  with  interesting 
agitation,  "  I  will  not  deceive  you." 

"  You  had  better  not,  ma'am,"  said  the  little  judge. 

"I  was  there,"  resumed  Mrs.  Cluppins,  "unbeknown  to 
Mrs.  Bardell ;  I  had  been  out  with  a  little  basket,  gentlemen, 
to  buy  three  pound  of  red  kidney  purtaties,  which  was  three 
pound  tuppense  ha'penny,  when  I  see  Mrs.  Bardell's  street 
door  on  the  jar." 

"On  the  what?"  exclaimed  the  little  judge. 

"Partly  open,  my  Lord,"  said  Serjeant  Snubbin. 

"  She  said  on  the  jar,"  said  the  little  judge,  with  a  cunning 
look. 

"It's  all  the  same,  my  Lord,"  said  Serjeant  Snubbin. 
The  little  judge  looked  doubtful,  and  said  he'd  make  a  note 
of  it.  Mrs.  Cluppins  then  resumed : 

"I  walked  in,  gentlemen,  just  to  say  good  mornm',  and 
went,  in  a  permiscuous  manner,  up  stairs,  and  into  the  back 
room.  Gentlemen,  there  was  the  sound  of  voices  in  the  front 
room,  and " 

"And  you  listened,  I  believe,  Mrs.  Cluppins?"  said  Serjeant 
Buzfuz. 

"Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.    Cluppins,  in   a 


86  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

majestic  manner,  "I  would  scorn  the  haction.  The  voices 
was  very  loud,  sir,  and  forced  themselves  upon  my  ear.11 

"Well,  Mrs.  Cluppins,  you  were  not  listening,  but  you 
heard  the  voices.  Was  one  of  those  voices,  Pickwick's  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  were,  sir.1' 

And  Mrs.  Cluppins,  after  distinctly  stating  that  Mr.  Pick- 
wick addressed  himself  to  Mrs.  Bardell,  repeated,  by  slow 
degrees,  and  by  dint  of  many  questions,  the  conversation  with 
which  our  readers  are  already  acquainted. 

The  jury  looked  suspicious,  and  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz  smiled 
and  sat  down.  They  looked  positively  awful  when  Serjeant 
Snubbin  intimated  that  he  should  not  cross-examine  the 
witness,  for  Mr.  Pickwick  wished  it  to  be  distinctly  stated 
that  it  was  due  to  her  to  say,  that  her  account  was  in  sub- 
stance correct. 

Mrs.  Cluppins  having  once  broken  the  ice,  thought  it  a 
favourable  opportunity  for  entering  into  a  short  dissertation 
on  her  own  domestic  affairs;  so,  she  straightway  proceeded 
to  inform  the  court  that  she  was  the  mother  of  eight  children 
at  that  present  speaking,  and  that  she  entertained  confident 
expectations  of  presenting  Mr.  Cluppins  with  a  ninth,  some- 
where about  that  day  six  months.  At  this  interesting  point, 
the  little  judge  interposed  most  irascibly ;  and  the  effect  of 
the  interposition  was,  that  both  the  worthy  lady  and  Mrs. 
Sanders  were  politely  taken  out  of  court,  under  the  escort  of 
Mr.  Jackson,  without  further  parley. 

"Nathaniel  Winkle!11  said  Mr.  Skimpin. 

"Here!11  replied  a  feeble  voice.  Mr.  Winkle  entered  the 
witness  box,  and  having  been  duly  sworn,  bowed  to  the 
judge  with  considerable  deference. 

"Don't  look  at  me,  sir,"  said  the  judge,  sharply,  in  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  salute;  "look  at  the  jury.11 

Mr.  Winkle  obeyed  the  mandate,  and  looked  at  the  place 
where  he  thought  it  most  probable  the  jury  might  be ;  for 
seeing  anything  in  his  then  state  of  intellectual  complication 
was  wholly  out  of  the  question. 


MR.   WINKLE   IN  THE  BOX.  87 

Mr.  Winkle  was  then  examined  by  Mr.  Skimpin,  who, 
being  a  promising  young  man  of  two  or  three  and  forty,  was 
of  course  anxious  to  confuse  a  witness  who  was  notoriously 
predisposed  in  favour  of  the  other  side,  as  much  as  he  could. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Skimpin,  "  have  the  goodness  to  let  his 
Lordship  and  the  jury  know  what  your  name  is,  will  you?" 
and  Mr.  Skimpin  inclined  his  head  on  one  side  to  listen  with 
great  sharpness  to  the  answer,  and  glanced  at  the  jury  mean- 
while, as  if  to  imply  that  he  rather  expected  Mr.  Winkle's 
natural  taste  for  perjury  would  induce  him  to  give  some  name 
which  did  not  belong  to  him. 

"Winkle,""  replied  the  witness. 

"What's  your  Christian  name,  sir?"  angrily  inquired  the 
little  judge. 

"Nathaniel,  sir." 

"  Daniel, — any  other  name  ?  " 

"Nathaniel,  sir — my  Lord,  I  mean." 

"  Nathaniel  Daniel,  or  Daniel  Nathaniel  ?  " 

"  No,  my  Lord,  only  Nathaniel ;  not  Daniel  at  all." 

"  What  did  you  tell  me  it  was  Daniel  for,  then,  sir  ? " 
inquired  the  judge. 

"  I  didn't,  my  Lord,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle. 

"You  did,  sir,"  replied  the  judge,  with  a  severe  frown. 
"  How  could  I  have  got  Daniel  on  my  notes,  unless  you  told 
me  so,  sir  ?  " 

This  argument,  was,  of  course,  unanswerable. 

"  Mr.  Winkle  has  rather  a  short  memory,  my  Lord,"  inter- 
posed Mr.  Skimpin,  with  another  glance  at  the  jury.  "  We 
shall  find  means  to  refresh  it  before  we  have  quite  done  with 
him,  I  dare  say." 

"  You  had  better  be  careful,  sir,"  said  the  little  judge,  with 
a  sinister  look  at  the  witness. 

Poor  Mr.  Winkle  bowed,  and  endeavoured  to  feign  an 
easiness  of  manner,  which,  in  his  then  state  of  confusion,  gave 
him  rather  the  air  of  a  disconcerted  pickpocket. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Winkle,"  said  Mr.  Skimpin,  "  attend  to  me,  if 


88  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

you  please,  sir;  and  let  me  recommend  you,  for  your  own 
sake,  to  bear  in  mind  his  Lordship's  injunction  to  be  careful. 
I  believe  you  are  a  particular  friend  of  Pickwick,  the  defendant, 
are  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  have  known  Mr.  Pickwick  now,  as  well  as  I  recollect  at 
this  moment,  nearly " 

"Pray,  Mr.  Winkle,  do  not  evade  the  question.  Are  you, 
or  are  you  not,  a  particular  friend  of  the  defendant's  ? " 

"I  was  just  about  to  say,  that " 

"  Will  you,  or  will  you  not,  answer  my  question,  sir  ? " 

"  If  you  don't  answer  the  question  you'll  be  committed, 
sir,"  interposed  the  little  judge,  looking  over  his  note-book. 

"  Come,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Skim  pin,  "  yes  or  no,  if  you  please." 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  Yes,  you  are.  And  why  couldn't  you  say  that  at  once, 
sir  ?  Perhaps  you  know  the  plaintiff,  too  ?  Eh,  Mr.  Winkle  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  her;  I've  seen  her." 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  her,  but  you've  seen  her?  Now, 
have  the  goodness  to  tell  the  gentlemen  of  the  jury  what  you 
mean  by  that,  Mr.  Winkle." 

"I  mean  that  I  am  not  intimate  with  her,  but  I  have 
seen  her  when  I  went  to  call  on  Mr.  Pickwick  in  Goswell 
Street." 

"How  often  have  you  seen  her,  sir?" 

"How  often?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Winkle,  how  often  ?  I'll  repeat  the  question 
for  you  a  dozen  times,  if  you  require  it,  sir."  And  the 
learned  gentleman,  with  a  firm  and  steady  frown,  placed 
his  hands  on  his  hips,  and  smiled  suspiciously  at  the  jury. 

On  this  question  there  arose  the  edifying  brow-beating, 
customary  on  such  points.  First  of  all,  Mr.  Winkle  said  it 
was  quite  impossible  for  him  to  say  how  many  times  he  had 
seen  Mrs.  Bardell.  Then  he  was  asked  if  he  had  seen  her 
twenty  times,  to  which  he  replied,  "Certainly, — more  than 
that."  Then  he  was  asked  whether  he  hadn't  seen  her  a 
hundred  times — whether  he  couldn't  swear  that  he  had  seen 


DAMAGING  EVIDENCE.  89 

her  more  than  fifty  times — whether  he  didn't  know  that  he 
had  seen  her  at  least  seventy-five  times — and  so  forth;  the 
satisfactory  conclusion  which  was  arrived  at,  at  last,  being, 
that  he  had  better  take  care  of  himself,  and  mind  what  he 
was  about.  The  witness  having  been  by  these  means  reduced 
to  the  requisite  ebb  of  nervous  perplexity,  the  examination 
was  continued  as  follows : 

"Pray,  Mr.  Winkle,  do  you  remember  calling  on  the 
defendant  Pickwick  at  these  apartments  in  the  plaintiff's 
house  in  Goswell  Street,  on  one  particular  morning,  in  the 
month  of  July  last  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"  Were  you  accompanied  on  that  occasion  by  a  friend  of 
the  name  of  Tupman,  and  another  of  the  name  of  Snodgrass  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was." 

"Are  they  here? 

"  Yes,  they  are,11  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  looking  very  earnestly 
towards  the  spot  where  his  friends  were  stationed. 

"  Pray  attend  to  me,  Mr.  Winkle,  and  never  mind  your 
friends,"  said  Mr.  Skimpin,  with  another  expressive  look  at 
the  jury.  "  They  must  tell  their  stories  without  any  previous 
consultation  with  you,  if  none  has  yet  taken  place  (another 
look  at  the  jury).  Now,  sir,  tell  the  gentlemen  of  the  jury 
what  you  saw  on  entering  the  defendant's  room,  on  this 
particular  morning.  Come;  out  with  it,  sir;  we  must  have 
it,  sooner  or  later." 

"The  defendant,  Mr.  Pickwick,  was  holding  the  plaintiff 
in  his  arms,  with  his  hands  clasping  her  waist,"  replied  Mr. 
Winkle  with  natural  hesitation,  "  and  the  plaintiff'  appeared 
to  have  fainted  away." 

"  Did  you  hear  the  defendant  say  anything  ? " 

"I  heard  him  call  Mrs.  Bardell  a  good  creature,  and  I 
heard  him  ask  her  to  compose  herself,  for  what  a  situation 
it  was,  if  any  body  should  come,  or  words  to  that  effect." 

"Now,  Mr.  Winkle,  I  have  only  one  more  question  to  ask 
you,  and  I  beg  you  to  bear  in  mind  his  lordship's  caution. 


90  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Will  you  undertake  to  swear  that  Pickwick,  the  defendant, 
did  not  say  on  the  occasion  in  question,  'My  dear  Mrs. 
Bardell,  you're  a  good  creature ;  compose  yourself  to  this 
situation,  for  to  this  situation  you  must  come,1  or  words  to 
that  effect  ?  " 

"  I — I  didn't  understand  him  so,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Winkle, 
astounded  at  this  ingenious  dove-tailing  of  the  few  words  he 
had  heard.  "I  was  on  the  staircase,  and  couldn't  hear 
distinctly  ;  the  impression  on  my  mind  is — " 

"  The  gentlemen  of  the  jury  want  none  of  the  impressions 
on  your  mind,  Mr.  Winkle,  which  I  fear  would  be  of  little 
service  to  honest,  straightforward  men,"  interposed  Mr. 
Skimpin.  "  You  were  on  the  staircase,  and  didn't  distinctly 
hear;  but  you  will  not  swear  that  Pickwick  did  not  make 
use  of  the  expressions  I  have  quoted?  Do  I  understand 
that?" 

"No,  I  will  not,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle;  and  down  sat  Mr. 
Skimpin  with  a  triumphant  countenance. 

Mr.  Pickwick's  case  had  not  gone  off'  in  so  particularly 
happy  a  manner,  up  to  this  point,  that  it  could  very  well 
afford  to  have  any  additional  suspicion  cast  upon  it.  But 
as  it  could  afford  to  be  placed  in  a  rather  better  light,  if 
possible,  Mr.  Phunky  rose  for  the  purpose  of  getting  some- 
thing important  out  of  Mr.  Winkle  in  cross-examination. 
Whether  he  did  get  anything  important  out  of  him,  will 
immediately  appear. 

"I  believe,  Mr.  Winkle,"  said  Mr.  Phunky,  "that  Mr. 
Pickwick  is  not  a  young  man  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  "  old  enough  to  be  my  father." 

"You  have  told  my  learned  friend  that  you  have  known 
Mr.  Pickwick  a  long  time.  Had  you  ever  any  reason  to 
suppose  or  believe  that  he  was  about  to  be  married  ? " 

"  Oh  no ;  certainly  not ; "  replied  Mr.  Winkle  with  so  much 
eagerness,  that  Mr.  Phunky  ought  to  have  got  him  out  of 
the  box  with  all  possible  dispatch.  Lawyers  hold  that  there 
are  two  kinds  of  particularly  bad  witnesses :  a  reluctant 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  ADMISSION.  91 

witness,  and  a  too-willing  witness ;  it  was  Mr.  Winkle's  fate 
to  figure  in  both  characters. 

"  I  will  even  go  further  than  this,  Mr.  Winkle,""  continued 
Mr.  Phunky  in  a  most  smooth  and  complacent  manner. 
"Did  you  ever  see  anything  in  Mr.  Pickwick's  manner  and 
conduct  towards  the  opposite  sex,  to  induce  you  to  believe 
that  he  ever  contemplated  matrimony  of  late  years,  in  any 
case?" 

"  Oh  no ;  certainly  not,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  Has  his  behaviour,  when  females  have  been  in  the  case, 
always  been  that  of  a  man,  who,  having  attained  a  pretty 
advanced  period  of  life,  content  with  his  own  occupations  and 
amusements,  treats  them  only  as  a  father  might  his  daughters  ?  " 

« Not  the  least  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart.  "  That  is — yes — oh  yes — certainly." 

"  You  have  never  known  anything  in  his  behaviour  towards 
Mrs.  Bardell,  or  any  other  female,  in  the  least  degree  sus- 
picious ? "  said  Mr.  Phunky,  preparing  to  sit  down ;  for  Ser- 
jeant Snubbin  was  winking  at  him. 

"N — n — no,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  "except  on  one  trifling 
occasion,  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  might  be  easily  explained." 

Now,  if  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Phunky  had  sat  down  when 
Serjeant  Snubbin  winked  at  him,  or  if  Serjeant  Buzfuz  had 
stopped  this  irregular  cross-examination  at  the  outset  (which 
he  knew  better  than  to  do;  observing  Mr.  Winkle's  anxiety, 
and  well  knowing  it  would,  in  all  probability,  lead  to  some- 
thing serviceable  to  him),  this  unfortunate  admission  would 
not  have  been  elicited.  The  moment  the  words  fell  from  Mr. 
Winkle's  lips,  Mr.  Phunky  sat  down,  and  Serjeant  Snubbin 
rather  hastily  told  him  he  might  leave  the  box,  which  Mr. 
Winkle  prepared  to  do  with  great  readiness,  when  Serjeant 
Buzfuz  stopped  him. 

"Stay,  Mr.  Winkle,  stay!"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  "will 
your  lordship  have  the  goodness  to  ask  him,  what  this  one 
instance  of  suspicious  behaviour  towards  females  on  the  part 
of  this  gentleman,  who  is  old  enough  to  be  his  father,  was  ? " 


92  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"You  hear  what  the  learned  counsel  says,  sir,"  observed 
the  judge,  turning  to  the  miserable  and  agonized  Mr.  Winkle. 
"  Describe  the  occasion  to  which  you  refer." 

"My  lord,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  trembling  with  anxiety, 
"  I — Fd  rather  not.' 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  the  little  judge;  "but  you  must." 

Amid  the  profound  silence  of  the  whole  court,  Mr.  Winkle 
faltered  out,  that  the  trifling  circumstance  of  suspicion  was 
Mr.  Pickwick's  being  found  in  a  lady's  sleeping  apartment 
at  midnight;  which  had  terminated,  he  believed,  in  the 
breaking  off  of  the  projected  marriage  of  the  lady  in  question, 
and  had  led,  he  knew,  to  the  whole  party  being  forcibly 
carried  before  George  Nupkins,  Esq.,  magistrate  and  justice 
of  the  peace,  for  the  borough  of  Ipswich ! 

"You  may  leave  the  box,  sir,"  said  Serjeant  Snubbin.  Mr. 
Winkle  did  leave  the  box,  and  rushed  with  delirious  haste  to 
the  George  and  Vulture,  where  he  was  discovered  some  hours 
after,  by  the  waiter,  groaning  in  a  hollow  and  dismal  manner, 
with  his  head  buried  beneath  the  sofa  cushions. 

Tracy  Tupman,  and  Augustus  Snodgrass,  were  severally 
called  into  the  box ;  both  corroborated  the  testimony  of  their 
unhappy  friend ;  and  each  was  driven  to  the  verge  of  despera- 
tion by  excessive  badgering. 

Susannah  Sanders  was  then  called,  and  examined  by  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  and  cross-examined  by  Serjeant  Snubbin.  Had  always 
said  and  believed  that  Pickwick  would  marry  Mrs.  Bardell ; 
knew  that  Mrs.  Bardell's  being  engaged  to  Pickwick  was  the 
current  topic  of  conversation  in  the  neighbourhood,  after 
the  fainting  in  July ;  had  been  told  it  herself  by  Mrs.  Mud- 
berry  which  kept  a  mangle,  and  Mrs.  Bunkin  which  clear- 
starched, but  did  not  see  either  Mrs.  Mudberry  or  Mrs. 
Bunkin  in  court.  Had  heard  Pickwick  ask  the  little  boy 
how  he  should  like  to  have  another  father.  Did  not  know 
that  Mrs.  Bardell  was  at  that  time  keeping  company  with 
the  baker,  but  <Iid  know  that  the  baker  was  then  a  single 
man  and  is  now  married.  Couldn't  swear  that  Mrs.  Bardell 


SAMUEL  WELLER  IN  THE  BOX.  93 

was  not  very  fond  of  the  baker,  but  should  think  that  the 
baker  was  not  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Bardell,  or  he  wouldn't 
have  married  somebody  else.  Thought  Mrs.  Bardell  fainted 
away  on  the  morning  in  July,  because  Pickwick  asked  her  to 
name  the  day ;  knew  that  she  (witness)  fainted  away  stone 
dead  when  Mr.  Sanders  asked  her  to  name  the  day,  and 
believed  that  everybody  as  called  herself  a  lady  would  do  the 
same,  under  similar  circumstances.  Heard  Pickwick  ask  the 
boy  the  question  about  the  marbles,  but  upon  her  oath  did 
not  know  the  difference  between  an  alley  tor  and  a  commoney. 

By  the  COURT. — During  the  period  of  her  keeping  company 
with  Mr.  Sanders,  had  received  love  letters,  like  other  ladies. 
In  the  course  of  their  correspondence  Mr.  Sanders  had  often 
called  her  a  "duck,"  but  never  "chops,"  nor  yet  "tomata 
sauce."  He  was  particularly  fond  of  ducks.  Perhaps  if  he 
had  been  as  fond  of  chops  and  tomata  sauce,  he  might  have 
called  her  that,  as  a  term  of  affection. 

Serjeant  Buzfuz  now  rose  with  more  importance  than  he 
had  yet  exhibited,  if  that  were  possible,  and  vociferated : 
"  Call  Samuel  Weller." 

It  was  quite  unnecessary  to  call  Samuel  Weller ;  for  Samuel 
Weller  stepped  briskly  into  the  box  the  instant  his  name 
was  pronounced;  and  placing  his  hat  on  the  floor,  and  his 
arms  on  the  rail,  took  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  bar,  and  a 
comprehensive  survey  of  the  bench,  with  a  remarkably  cheerful 
and  lively  aspect. 

" What's  your  name,  sir?"  inquired  the  judge. 

"Sam  Weller,  my  lord,"  replied  that  gentleman. 

"Do  you  spell  it  with  a  'V  or  a  <W?"'  inquired  the 
judge. 

"That  depends  upon  the  taste  and  fancy  of  the  speller, 
my  lord,"  replied  Sam ;  "  I  never  had  occasion  to  spell  it 
more  than  once  or  twice  in  my  life,  but  I  spells  it  with  a  *  V."1 " 

Here  a  voice  in  the  gallery  exclaimed  aloud,  "Quite  right 
too,  Samivel,  quite  right.  Put  it  down  a  we,  my  lord,  put 
it  down  a  we." 


94  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Who  is  that,  who  dares  to  address  the  court  ? "  said  the 
little  judge,  looking  up.  "  Usher." 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

"Bring  that  person  here  instantly."" 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

But  as  the  usher  didn't  find  the  person,  he  didn't  bring 
him;  and,  after  a  great  commotion,  all  the  people  \vho  had 
got  up  to  look  for  the  culprit,  sat  down  again.  The  little 
judge  turned  to  the  witness  as  soon  as  his  indignation  would 
allow  him  to  speak,  and  said, 

"Do  you  know  who  that  was,  sir?" 

"  I  rayther  suspect  it  was  my  father,  my  lord,"  replied  Sam. 

"Do  you  see  him  here  now?"  said  the  judge. 

"No,  I  don't,  my  lord,"  replied  Sam,  staring  right  up  into 
the  lantern  in  the  roof  of  the  court. 

"  If  you  could  have  pointed  him  out,  I  would  have  committed 
him  instantly,1'  said  the  judge. 

Sam  bowed  his  acknowledgments  and  turned,  with  unim- 
paired cheerfulness  of  countenance,  towards  Serjeant  Buzfuz. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz. 

"Now,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"I  believe  you  are  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  the 
defendant  in  this  case.  Speak  up,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Weller." 

"I  mean  to  speak  up,  sir,"  replied  Sam;  "I  am  in  the 
service  o*  that  'ere  genTman,  and  a  wery  good  service  it  is." 

"  Little  to  do,  and  plenty  to  get,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  with  jocularity. 

"  Oh,  quite  enough  to  get,  sir,  as  the  soldier  said  ven  they 
ordered  him  three  hundred  and  fifty  lashes,"  replied  Sam. 

"  You  must  not  tell  us  what  the  soldier,  or  any  other  man, 
said,  sir,"  interposed  the  judge ;  "  it's  not  evidence." 

"Wery  good,  my  lord,"  replied  Sam. 

"Do  you  recollect  anything  particular  happening  on  the 
morning  when  you  were  first  engaged  by  the  defendant;  eh, 
Mr.  Weller?"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz. 

"  Yes  I  do,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 


ATTEMPT  TO   FRIGHTEN  SAM.  95 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  tell  the  jury  what  it  was." 

"  I  had  a  regular  new  fit  out  o"  clothes  that  mornin',  genT- 
men  of  the  jury,""  said  Sam,  "  and  that  was  a  wery  partickler 
and  uncommon  circumstance  vith  me  in  those  days.'1 

Hereupon  there  was  a  general  laugh ;  and  the  little  judge, 
looking  with  an  angry  countenance  over  his  desk,  said,  "  You 
had  better  be  careful,  sir." 

"  So  Mr.  Pickwick  said  at  the  time,  my  lord,"  replied  Sam ; 
"and  I  was  wery  careful  o'  that  'ere  suit  o  clothes;  wery 
careful  indeed,  my  lord." 

The  judge  looked  sternly  at  Sam  for  full  two  minutes,  but 
Sam's  features  were  so  perfectly  calm  and  serene  that  the 
judge  said  nothing,  and  motioned  Serjeant  Buzfuz  to  proceed. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  folding  his  arms  emphatically,  and  turning  half-round 
to  the  jury,  as  if  in  mute  assurance  that  he  would  bother 
the  witness  yet:  "Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Mr.  Weller,  that 
you  saw  nothing  of  this  fainting  on  the  part  of  the  plaintiff' 
in  the  arms  of  the  defendant,  which  you  have  heard  described 
by  the  witnesses  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Sam.  "  I  was  in  the  passage  'till 
they  called  me  up,  and  then  the  old  lady  was  not  there." 

"Now,  attend,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  dipping 
a  large  pen  into  the  inkstand  before  him,  for  the  purpose 
of  frightening  Sam  with  a  show  of  taking  down  his  answer. 
"  You  were  in  the  passage,  and  yet  saw  nothing  of  what  was 
going  forward.  Have  you  a  pair  of  eyes,  Mr.  Weller  ? " 

"Yes,  I  have  a  pair  of  eyes,"  replied  Sam,  "and  that's 
just  it.  If  they  wos  a  pair  o1  patent  double  million  magnifyin' 
gas  microscopes  of  hextra  power,  p'raps  I  might  be  able  to 
see  through  a  flight  o1  stairs  and  a  deal  door;  but  bein'  only 
eyes,  you  see,  my  wision  's  limited." 

At  this  answer,  which  was  delivered  without  the  slightest 
appearance  of  irritation,  and  with  the  most  complete  simplicity 
and  equanimity  of  manner,  the  spectators  tittered,  the  little 
judge  smiled,  and  Serjeant  Buzfuz  looked  particularly  foolish. 


96  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

After  a  short  consultation  with  Dodson  and  Fogg,  the  learned 
Serjeant  again  turned  towards  Sam,  and  said,  with  a  painful 
effort  to  conceal  his  vexation,  "Now,  Mr.  Weller,  111  ask 
you  a  question  on  another  point,  if  you  please." 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam,  with  the  utmost  good- 
humour. 

"Do  you  remember  going  up  to  Mrs.  BardelPs  house,  one 
night  in  November  last?'1 

"  Oh  yes,  wery  well." 

"Oh,  you  do  remember  that,  Mr.  Weller ,"  said  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  recovering  his  spirits ;  "  I  thought  we  should  get  at 
something  at  last." 

"  I  rayther  thought  that,  too,  sir,11  replied  Sam ;  and  at 
this  the  spectators  tittered  again. 

"  Well ;  I  suppose  you  went  up  to  have  a  little  talk  about 
this  trial — eh,  Mr.  Weller?"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz.  looking 
knowingly  at  the  jury.: ;:  ol. 

"I  went  up  to  pay  the  rent;  but  we  did  get  a  talkirf 
about  the  trial,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Oh,  you  did  get  a  talking  about  the  trial,"  said  Serjeant 
Buzfuz,  brightening  up  with  the  anticipation  of  some  im- 
portant discovery.  "Now  what  passed  about  the  trial;  will 
you  have  the  goodness  to  tell  us,  Mr.  Weller?11 

"  Vith  all  the  pleasure  in  life,  sir,11  replied  Sam.  "  Arter  a 
few  unimportant  obserwations  from  the  two  wirtuous  females 
as  has  been  examined  here  to-day,  the  ladies  gets  into  a  very 
great  state  o1  admiration  at  the  honourable  conduct  of  Mr. 
Dodson  and  Fogg — them  two  genTmen  as  is  settin1  near  you 
now."11  This,  of  course,  drew  general  attention  to  Dodson  and 
Fogg,  who  looked  as  virtuous  as  possible. 

"The  attorneys  for  the  plaintiff," said  Mr.  Serjeant  Buzfuz. 
"  Well !  They  spoke  in  high  praise  of  the  honourable  conduct 
of  Messrs.  Dodson  and  Fogg,  the  attorneys  for  the  plaintiff', 
did  they?11 

"  Yes,v  said  Sam.  "  they  said  what  a  wery  genVous  thing 
it  was  o*  them  to  have  taken  up  the  case  on  spec,  and  to 


SERJEANT  SNUBBIN  DOES  HIS  BEST.        97 

charge  nothing  at  all  for  costs,  unless  they  got  'em  out  of 
Mr.  Pickwick/" 

At  this  very  unexpected  reply,  the  spectators  tittered 
again,  and  Doclson  and  Fogg,  turning  very  red,  leant  over 
to  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  and  in  a  hurried  manner  whispered 
something  in  his  ear. 

"You  are  quite  right,1"  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz  aloud,  with 
affected  composure.  "  It's  perfectly  useless,  my  lord,  attempt- 
ing to  get  at  any  evidence  through  the  impenetrable  stupidity 
of  this  witness.  I  will  not  trouble  the  court  by  asking  him 
any  more  questions.  Stand  down,  sir.1" 

"Would  any  other  genTman  like  to  ask  me  anythin1?11 
inquired  Sam,  taking  up  his  hat,  and  looking  round  most 
deliberately. 

"Not  I,  Mr.  Weller,  thank  you,"  said  Serjeant  Snubbin, 
laughing. 

"  You  may  go  down,  sir,11  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  waving  his 
hand  impatiently.  Sam  went  down  accordingly,  after  doing 
Messrs.  Dodson  and  Fogg's  case  as  much  harm  as  he  con- 
veniently could,  and  saying  just  as  little  respecting  Mr. 
Pickwick  as  might  be,  which  was  precisely  the  object  he  had 
had  in  view  all  along. 

"I  have  no  objection  to  admit,  my  lord,11  said  Serjeant 
Snubbin,  "  if  it  will  save  the  examination  of  another  witness, 
that  Mr.  Pickwick  has  retired  from  business,  and  is  a  gentle- 
man of  considerable  independent  property.11 

"Very  well,11  said  Serjeant  Buzfuz,  putting  in  the  two 
letters  to  be  read,  "Then  thafs  my  case,  my  lord.11 

Serjeant  Snubbin  then  addressed  the  jury  on  behalf  of  the 
defendant;  and  a  very  long  and  a  very  emphatic  address  he 
delivered,  in  which  he  bestowed  the  highest  possible  eulogiums 
on  the  conduct  and  character  of  Mr.  Pickwick ;  but  inasmuch 
as  our  readers  are  far  better  able  to  form  a  correct  estimate 
of  that  gentleman^  merits  and  deserts,  than  Serjeant  Snubbin 
could  possibly  be,  we  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  enter  at 
any  length  into  the  learned  gentleman's  observations.  He 

VOL.  II.  H 


98  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

attempted  to  show  that  the  letters  which  had  been  exhibited, 
merely  related  to  Mr.  Pickwick's  dinner,  or  to  the  preparations 
for  receiving  him  in  his  apartments  on  his  return  from  some 
country  excursion.  It  is  sufficient  to  add  in  general  terms, 
that  he  did  the  best  he  could  for  Mr.  Pickwick ;  and  the 
best,  as  every  body  knows,  on  the  infallible  authority  of  the 
old  adage,  could  do  no  more. 

Mr.  Justice  Stareleigh  summed  up,  in  the  old-established 
and  most  approved  form.  He  read  as  much  of  his  notes  to 
the  jury  as  he  could  decipher  on  so  short  a  notice,  and  made 
running  comments  on  the  evidence  as  he  went  along.  If 
Mrs.  Bardell  were  right,  it  was  perfectly  clear  that  Mr. 
Pickwick  was  wrong,  and  if  they  thought  the  evidence  of 
Mrs.  Cluppins  worthy  of  credence  they  would  believe  it,  and, 
if  they  didn't,  why  they  wouldn't.  If  they  were  satisfied 
that  a  breach  of  promise  of  marriage  had  been  committed, 
they  would  find  for  the  plaintiff  with  such  damages  as  they 
thought  proper;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  appeared  to 
them  that  no  promise  of  marriage  had  ever  been  given,  they 
would  find  for  the  defendant  with  no  damages  at  all.  The 
jury  then  retired  to  their  private  room  to  talk  the  matter 
over,  and  the  judge  retired  to  his  private  room,  to  refresh 
himself  with  a  mutton  chop  and  a  glass  of  sherry. 

An  anxious  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed;  the  jury  came 
back;  the  judge  was  fetched  in.  Mr.  Pickwick  put  on  his 
spectacles,  and  gazed  at  the  foreman  with  an  agitated  counte- 
nance and  a  quickly  beating  heart. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  individual  in  black,  "are  you  all 
agreed  upon  your  verdict?" 

"We  are,"  replied  the  foreman. 

"Do  you  find  for  the  plaintiff,  gentlemen,  or  for  the 
defendant?" 

"  For  the  plaintiff." 

"  With  what  damages,  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  Seven  hundred  and  fifty  pounds." 

Mr.  Pickwick  took  off  his  spectacles,  carefully  wiped  the 


VIRTUES  OF  AN  ALIBI.  99 

glasses,  folded  them  into  their  case,  and  put  them  in  his 
pocket ;  then  having  drawn  on  his  gloves  with  great  nicety, 
and  stared  at  the  foreman  all  the  while,  he  mechanically 
followed  Mr.  Perker  and  the  blue  bag  out  of  court. 

They  stopped  in  a  side  room  while  Perker  paid  the  court 
fees;  and  here,  Mr.  Pickwick  was  joined  by  his  friends. 
Here,  too,  he  encountered  Messrs.  Dodson  and  Fogg,  rubbing 
their  hands  with  every  token  of  outward  satisfaction. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Dodson :  for  self  and  partner. 

"  You  imagine  you'll  get  your  costs,  don't  you,  gentlemen  ?" 
said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Fogg  said  they  thought  it  rather  probable.  Dodson  smiled, 
and  said  they'd  try. 

"  You  may  try,  and  try,  and  try  again,  Messrs.  Dodson 
and  Fogg,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  vehemently,  "but  not  one 
farthing  of  costs  or  damages  do  you  ever  get  from  me,  if  I 
spend  the  rest  of  my  existence  in  a  debtor's  prison." 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  laughed  Dodson.  "  You'll  think  better  of  that, 
before  next  term,  Mr.  Pickwick." 

"He,  he,  he!  We'll  soon  see  about  that,  Mr.  Pickwick," 
grinned  Fogg. 

Speechless  with  indignation,  Mr.  Pickwick  allowed  himself 
to  be  led  by  his  solicitor  and  friends  to  the  door,  and  there 
assisted  into  a  hackney-coach,  which  had  been  fetched  for 
the  purpose,  by  the  ever  watchful  Sam  Weller. 

Sam  had  put  up  the  steps,  and  was  preparing  to  jump 
upon  the  box,  when  he  felt  himself  gently  touched  on  the 
shoulder;  and  looking  round,  his  father  stood  before  him. 
The  old  gentleman's  countenance  wore  a  mournful  expression, 
as  he  shook  his  head  gravely,  and  said,  in  warning  accents : 

"  I  know'd  what  'ud  come  o'  this  here  mode  o'  doin'  bisness. 
Oh  Sammy,  Sammy,  vy  worn't  there  a  alleybi ! " 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

IN   WHICH    MR.    PICKWICK    THINKS    HE    HAD    BETTER   GO    TO   BATH; 
AND   GOES   ACCORDINGLY. 

"Bur  surely,  my  dear  sir,"  said  little  Perker,  as  he  stood  in 
Mr.  Pickwick's  apartment  on  the  morning  after  the  trial: 
"Surely  you  don't  really  mean — really  and  seriously  now, 
and  irritation  apart — that  you  won't  pay  these  costs  and 
damages  ?  " 

"Not  one  halfpenny,"11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  firmly;  "not 
one  halfpenny." 

"Hooroar  for  the  principle,  as  the  money-lender  said  ven 
he  vouldn't  renew  the  bill,"  observed  Mr.  Weller,  who  was 
clearing  away  the  breakfast  things. 

"Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "have  the  goodness  to  step 
down  stairs." 

"  Cert'nly,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller ;  and  acting  on  Mr. 
Pickwick's  gentle  hint,  Sam  retired. 

"No,  Perker,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  great  seriousness  of 
manner,  "my  friends  here,  have  endeavoured  to  dissuade  me 
from  this  determination,  but  without  avail.  I  shall  employ 
myself  as  usual,  until  the  opposite  party  have  the  power  of 
issuing  a  legal  process  of  execution  against  me ;  and  if  they 
are  vile  enough  to  avail  themselves  of  it,  and  to  arrest  my 
person,  I  shall  yield  myself  up  with  perfect  cheerfulness  and 
content  of  heart.  When  can  they  do  this?" 

"They  can  issue  execution,  my  dear  sir,  for  the  amount 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  JOURNEY.  101 

of  the  damages  and  taxed  costs,  next  term,"  replied  Perker, 
"just  two  months  hence,  my  dear  sir." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Until  that  time,  my 
dear  fellow,  let  me  hear  no  more  of  the  matter.  And  now," 
continued  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  round  on  his  friends  with  a 
good-humoured  smile,  and  a  sparkle  in  the  eye  which  no 
spectacles  could  dim  or  conceal,  "  the  only  question  is,  Where 
shall  we  go  next  ?  " 

Mr.  Tupman  and  Mr.  Snodgrass  were  too  much  affected 
by  their  friend's  heroism  to  offer  any  reply.  Mr.  Winkle 
had  not  yet  sufficiently  recovered  the  recollection  of  his 
evidence  at  the  trial,  to  make  any  observation  on  any  subject, 
so  Mr.  PickAvick  paused  in  vain. 

"  Well,"  said  that  gentleman,  "  if  you  leave  me  to  suggest 
our  destination,  I  say  Bath.  I  think  none  of  us  have  ever 
been  there." 

Nobody  had;  and  as  the  proposition  was  warmly  seconded 
by  Perker,  who  considered  it  extremely  probable  that  if  Mr. 
Pickwick  saw  a  little  change  and  gaiety  he  would  be  inclined 
to  think  better  of  his  determination,  and  worse  of  a  debtor's 
prison,  it  was  carried  unanimously :  and  Sam  was  at  once 
dispatched  to  the  White  Horse  Cellar,  to  take  five  places  by 
the  half-past  seven  o'clock  coach,  next  morning. 

There  were  just  two  places  to  be  had  inside,  and  just  three 
to  be  had  out;  so  Sam  Weller  booked  for  them  all,  and 
having  exchanged  a  few  compliments  with  the  booking-office 
clerk  on  the  subject  of  a  pewter  half-crown  which  was  tendered 
him  as  a  portion  of  his  "  change,"  walked  back  to  the  George 
and  Vulture,  where  he  was  pretty  busily  employed  until  bed- 
time in  reducing  clothes  and  linen  into  the  smallest  possible 
compass,  and  exerting  his  mechanical  genius  in  constructing 
a  variety  of  ingenious  devices  for  keeping  the  lids  on  boxes 
which  had  neither  locks  nor  hinges. 

The  next  was  a  very  unpropitious  morning  for  a  journey — 
muggy,  damp,  and  drizzly.  The  horses  in  the  stages  that 
were  going  out,  and  had  come  through  the  city,  were  smoking 


102  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

so,  that  the  outside  passengers  were  invisible.  The  newspaper- 
sellers  looked  moist,  and  smelt  mouldy;  the  wet  ran  off  the  hats 
of  the  orange- venders  as  they  thrust  their  heads  into  the  coach 
windows,  and  diluted  the  insides  in  a  refreshing  manner.  The 
Jews  with  the  fifty-bladed  penknives  shut  them  up  in  despair ; 
the  men  with  the  pocket-books  made  pocket-books  of  them. 
Watch-guards  and  toasting-forks  were  alike  at  a  discount,  and 
pencil-cases  and  sponge  were  a  drug  in  the  market. 

Leaving  Sam  Weller  to  rescue  the  luggage  from  the  seven 
or  eight  porters  who  flung  themselves  savagely  upon  it,  the 
moment  the  coach  stopped :  and  finding  tha*  they  were  about 
twenty  minutes  too  early :  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends  went 
for  shelter  into  the  travellers1  room — the  last  resource  of 
human  dejection. 

The  travellers'  room  at  the  White  Horse  Cellar  is  of  course 
uncomfortable ;  it  would  be  no  travellers'  room  if  it  were  not. 
It  is  the  right-hand  parlour,  into  which  an  aspiring  kitchen 
fire-place  appears  to  have  walked,  accompanied  by  a  rebellious 
poker,  tongs,  and  shovel.  It  is  divided  into  boxes,  for  the 
solitary  confinement  of  travellers,  and  is  furnished  with  a 
clock,  a  looking-glass,  and  a  live  waiter:  which  latter  article 
is  kept  in  a  small  kennel  for  washing  glasses,  in  a  corner  of 
the  apartment. 

One  of  these  boxes  was  occupied,  on  this  particular  occasion, 
by  a  stern-eyed  man  of  about  five-and-forty,  who  had  a  bald 
and  glossy  forehead,  with  a  good  deal  of  black  hair  at  the 
sides  and  back  of  his  head,  and  large  black  whiskers.  He 
was  buttoned  up  to  the  chin  in  a  brown  coat;  and  had  a 
large  seal-skin  travelling  cap,  and  a  great-coat  and  cloak, 
lying  on  the  seat  beside  him.  He  looked  up  from  his  break- 
fast as  Mr.  Pickwick  entered,  with  a  fierce  and  peremptory 
air,  which  was  very  dignified;  and  having  scrutinised  that 
gentleman  and  his  companions  to  his  entire  satisfaction, 
hummed  a  tune,  in  a  manner  which  seemed  to  say  that  he 
rather  suspected  somebody  wanted  to  take  advantage  of  him, 
but  it  wouldn't  do. 


AN  EXCITED   INDIVIDUAL.  103 

"Waiter,"  said  the  gentleman  with  the  whiskers. 

"  Sir  ?  "  replied  a  man  with  a  dirty  complexion,  and  a  towel 
of  the  same,  emerging  from  the  kennel  before  mentioned. 

"Some  more  toast." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Buttered  toast,  mind,"  said  the  gentleman,  fiercely. 
"  Directly,  sir,"  replied  the  waiter. 

The  gentleman  with  the  whiskers  hummed  a  tune  in  the 
same  manner  as  before,  and  pending  the  arrival  of  the  toast, 
advanced  to  the  front  of  the  fire,  and,  taking  his  coat  tails 
under  his  arms,  looked  at  his  boots,  and  ruminated. 

"I  wonder  whereabouts  in  Bath  this  coach  puts  up,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick,  mildly  addressing  Mr.  Winkle. 

"Hum — eh — what's  that?"  said  the  strange  man. 

"I  made  an  observation  to  my  friend,  sir,"  replied  Mr. 
Pickwick,  always  ready  to  enter  into  conversation.  "I 
wondered  at  what  house  the  Bath  coach  put  up.  Perhaps  you 
can  inform  me." 

"  Are  you  going  to  Bath  ?  "  said  the  strange  man. 

"I  am,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  And  those  other  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  They  are  going  also,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Not  inside — I'll  be  damned  if  you're  going  inside,"  said 
the  strange  man. 

"  Not  all  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"No,  not  all  of  you,"  said  the  strange  man  emphatically. 
"I've  taken  two  places.  If  they  try  to  squeeze  six  people 
into  an  infernal  box  that  only  holds  four,  I'll  take  a  post-chaise 
and  bring  an  action.  Pve  paid  my  fare.  It  won't  do;  I 
told  the  clerk  when  I  took  my  places  that  it  wouldn't  do. 
I  know  these  things  have  been  done.  I  know  they  are  done 
every  day ;  but  /  never  was  done,  and  I  never  will  be.  Those 
who  know  me  best,  best  know  it ;  crush  me ! "  Here  the 
fierce  gentleman  rang  the  bell  with  great  violence,  and  told 
the  waiter  he'd  better  bring  the  toast  in  five  seconds,  or  he'd 
know  the  reason  why. 


104  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"My  good  sir,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "you  will  allow  me  to 
observe  that  this  is  a  very  unnecessary  display  of  excitement. 
I  have  only  taken  places  inside  for  two." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,11  said  the  fierce  man.  "  I  withdraw 
my  expressions.  I  tender  an  apology.  There^s  my  card. 
Give  me  your  acquaintance.11 

"With  great  pleasure,  sir,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "We 
are  to  be  fellow  travellers,  and  I  hope  we  shall  find  each 
other's  society  mutually  agreeable." 

"  I  hope  we  shall,1"  said  the  fierce  gentleman.  "  I  know  we 
shall.  I  like  your  looks ;  they  please  me.  Gentlemen,  your 
hands  and  names.  Know  me.11 

Of  course,  an  interchange  of  friendly  salutations  followed 
this  gracious  speech;  and  the  fierce  gentleman  immediately 
proceeded  to  inform  the  friends,  in  the  same  short,  abrupt, 
jerking  sentences,  that  his  name  was  Dowler;  that  he  was 
going  to  Bath  on  pleasure;  that  he  was  formerly  in  the 
army ;  that  he  had  now  set  up  in  business  as  a  gentleman ; 
that  he  lived  upon  the  profits;  and  that  the  individual  for 
whom  the  second  place  was  taken,  was  a  personage  no  less 
illustrious  than  Mrs.  Dowler  his  lady  wife. 

"She^  a  fine  woman,"  said  Mr.  Dowler.  "I  am  proud  of 
her.  I  have  reason.11 

"I  hope  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  judging,11  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  with  a  smile. 

"  You  shall,11  replied  Dowler.  "  She  shall  know  you.  She 
shall  esteem  you.  I  courted  her  under  singular  circumstances. 
I  won  her  through  a  rash  vow.  Thus.  I  saw  her;  I  loved 
her;  I  proposed;  she  refused  me. — 'You  love  another?1 — 
'  Spare  my  blushes.1 — '  I  know  him.1 — *  You  do.1 — *  Very  good  ; 
if  he  remains  here,  Fll  skin  him.11 

"  Lord  bless  me ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  involuntarily. 

"  Did  you  skin  the  gentleman,  sir  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Winkle, 
with  a  very  pale  face. 

"  I  wrote  him  a  note.  I  said  it  was  a  painful  thing.  And 
so  it  was.11 


A  NOTABLE  COINCIDENCE.  105 

"  Certainly,"  interposed  Mr.  Winkle. 

"I  said  I  had  pledged  my  word  as  a  gentleman  to  skin 
him.  My  character  was  at  stake.  I  had  no  alternative.  As 
an  officer  in  His  Majesty's  service,  I  was  bound  to  skin  him. 
I  regretted  the  necessity,  but  it  must  be  done.  He  was  open 
to  conviction.  He  saw  that  the  rules  of  the  service  were 
imperative.  He  fled.  I  married  her.  Here's  the  coach. 
That's  her  head." 

As  Mr.  Dowler  concluded,  he  pointed  to  a  stage  which  had 
just  driven  up,  from  the  open  window  of  which  a  rather 
pretty  face  in  a  bright  blue  bonnet  was  looking  among  the 
crowd  on  the  pavement:  most  probably  for  the  rash  man 
himself.  Mr.  Dowler  paid  his  bill  and  hurried  out  with  his 
travelling-cap,  coat,  and  cloak;  and  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his 
friends  followed  to  secure  their  places. 

Mr.  Tupman  and  Mr.  Snodgrass  had  seated  themselves  at 
the  back  part  of  the  coach ;  Mr.  Winkle  had  got  inside ;  and 
Mr.  Pickwick  was  preparing  to  follow  him,  when  Sam  Weller 
came  up  to  his  master,  and  whispering  in  his  ear,  begged  to 
speak  to  him,  with  an  air  of  the  deepest  mystery. 

"  Well,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, "  what's  the  matter  now  ?  " 

"  Here's  rayther  a  rum  go,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"What?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"This  here,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam.  "Fm  wery  much  afeerd, 
sir,  that  the  proprieator  o'  this  here  coach  is  a  playin'  some 
imperence  vith  us." 

"How  is  that,  Sam?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "aren't  the 
names  down  on  the  way-bill  ?  " 

"The  names  is  not  only  down  on  the  vay-bill,  sir,"  replied 
Sam,  "  but  they've  painted  vun  on  'em  up,  on  the  door  o1  the 
coach."  As  Sam  spoke,  he  pointed  to  that  part  of  the  coach 
door  on  which  the  proprietor's  name  usually  appears;  and 
there,  sure  enough,  in  gilt  letters  of  a  goodly  size,  was  the 
magic  name  of  PICKWICK  ! 

"Dear  me,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  quite  staggered  by 
the  coincidence ;  "  what  a  very  extraordinary  thing  ! " 


106  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Yes,  but  that  ain't  all,"  said  Sam,  again  directing  his 
master's  attention  to  the  coach  door;  "not  content  vith 
writin'  up  Pickwick,  they  puts  *  Moses '  afore  it,  vich  I  call 
addin'  insult  to  injury,  as  the  parrot  said  ven  they  not  only 
took  him  from  his  native  land,  but  made  him  talk  the  English 
langwidge  arterwards." 

"  It's  odd  enough  certainly,  Sam,v  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  but 
if  we  stand  talking  here,  we  shall  lose  our  places.1' 

"Wot,  ain't  nothin'  to  be  done  in  consequence,  sir?" 
exclaimed  Sam,  perfectly  aghast  at  the  coolness  with  which 
Mr.  Pickwick  appeared  to  ensconce  himself  inside. 

"  Done  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.     "  What  should  be  done  ?" 

"  Ain't  nobody  to  be  whopped  for  takin*  this  here  liberty, 
sir?"  said  Mr.  Weller,  who  had  expected  that  at  least  he 
would  have  been  commissioned  to  challenge  the  guard  and 
coachman  to  a  pugilistic  encounter  on  the  spot. 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick  eagerly ;  "  not  on 
any  account.  Jump  up  to  your  seat  directly." 

"I'm  wery  much  afeerd,"  muttered  Sam  to  himself,  as  he 
turned  away,  "  that  somethin'  queer's  come  over  the  governor, 
or  he'd  never  ha'  stood  this  so  quiet.  I  hope  that  'ere  trial 
hasn't  broke  his  spirit,  but  it  looks  bad,  wery  bad."  Mr. 
Weller  shook  his  head  gravely ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark, 
as  an  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which  he  took  this 
circumstance  to  heart,  that  he  did  not  speak  another  word 
until  the  coach  reached  the  Kensington  turnpike.  Which 
was  so  long  a  time  for  him  to  remain  taciturn,  that  the 
fact  may  be  considered  wholly  unprecedented. 

Nothing  worthy  of  special  mention  occurred  during  the 
journey.  Mr.  Dowler  related  a  variety  of  anecdotes,  all 
illustrative  of  his  own  personal  prowess  and  desperation,  and 
appealed  to  Mrs.  Dowler  in  corroboration  thereof:  when 
Mrs.  Dowler  invariably  brought  in,  in  the  form  of  an  appendix, 
some  remarkable  fact  or  circumstance  which  Mr.  Dowler  had 
forgotten,  or  had  perhaps  through  modesty  omitted :  for  the 
addenda  in  every  instance  went  to  show  that  Mr.  Dowler  was 


INCIDENTS   OF  THE  JOURNEY.  107 

even  a  more  wonderful  fellow  than  he  made  himself  out  to  be. 
Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr.  Winkle  listened  with  great  admiration, 
and  at  intervals  conversed  with  Mrs.  Dowler,  who  was  a  very 
agreeable  and  fascinating  person.  So,  what  between  Mr. 
Bowler's  stories,  and  Mrs.  Bowler's  charms,  and  Mr.  Pickwick's 
good  humour,  and  Mr.  Winkle's  good  listening,  the  insides 
contrived  to  be  very  companionable  all  the  way. 

The  outsides  did  as  outsides  always  do.  They  were  very 
cheerful  and  talkative  at  the  beginning  of  every  stage,  and 
very  dismal  and  sleepy  in  the  middle,  and  very  bright  and 
wakeful  again  towards  the  end.  There  was  one  young 
gentleman  in  an  India-rubber  cloak,  who  smoked  cigars  all 
day ;  and  there  was  another  young  gentleman  in  a  parody 
upon  a  great  coat,  who  lighted  a  good  many,  and  feeling 
obviously  unsettled  after  the  second  whiff,  threw  them  away 
when  he  thought  nobody  was  looking  at  him.  There  was  a 
third  young  man  on  the  box  who  wished  to  be  learned  in 
cattle ;  and  an  old  one  behind,  who  was  familiar  with  farming. 
There  was  a  constant  succession  of  Christian  names  in  smock 
frocks  and  white  coats,  who  were  invited  to  have  a  "lift"  by 
the  guard,  and  who  knew  every  horse  and  hostler  on  the 
road  and  off  it ;  and  there  was  a  dinner  which  would  have 
been  cheap  at  half-a-crown  a  mouth,  if  any  moderate  number 
of  mouths  could  have  eaten  it  in  the  time.  And  at  seven 
o'clock  P.M.,  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends,  and  Mr.  Dowler 
and  his  wife,  respectively  retired  to  their  private  sitting-rooms 
at  the  White  Hart  hotel,  opposite  the  Great  Pump  Room, 
Bath,  where  the  waiters,  from  their  costume,  might  be  mistaken 
for  Westminster  boys,  only  they  destroy  the  illusion  by 
behaving  themselves  much  better. 

Breakfast  had  scarcely  been  cleared  away  on  the  succeeding 
morning,  when  a  waiter  brought  in  Mr.  Bowler's  card,  with 
a  request  to  be  allowed  permission  to  introduce  a  friend. 
Mr.  Dowler  at  once  followed  up  the  delivery  of  the  card,  by 
bringing  himself  and  the  friend  also. 

The  friend  was  a  charming  young  man  of  not  much  more 


108  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

than  fifty,  dressed  in  a  very  bright  blue  coat  with  resplendent 
buttons,  black  trousers,  and  the  thinnest  possible  pair  of 
highly-polished  boots.  A  gold  eye-glass  was  suspended  from 
his  neck  by  a  short  broad  black  ribbon ;  a  gold  snuff-box  was 
lightly  clasped  in  his  left  hand ;  gold  rings  innumerable, 
glittered  on  his  fingers ;  and  a  large  diamond  pin  set  in  gold 
glistened  in  his  shirt  frill.  He  had  a  gold  watch,  and  a  gold 
curb  chain  with  large  gold  seals ;  and  he  carried  a  pliant 
ebony  cane  with  a  heavy  gold  top.  His  linen  was  of  the  very 
whitest,  finest,  and  stiffest ;  his  wig  of  the  glossiest,  blackest, 
and  curliest.  His  snuff  was  princes1  mixture;  his  scent 
banquet  du  roi.  His  features  were  contracted  into  a  perpetual 
smile ;  and  his  teeth  were  in  such  perfect  order  that  it  was 
difficult  at  a  small  distance  to  tell  the  real  from  the  false. 

"Mr.  Pickwick,11  said  Mr.  Dowler;  "my  friend,  Angelo 
Cyrus  Bantam,  Esquire,  M.C.  Bantam ;  Mr.  Pickwick.  Know 
each  other.1 

"Welcome  to  Ba — ath,  sir.  This  is  indeed  an  acquisition. 
Most  welcome  to  Ba — ath,  sir.  It  is  long — very  long,  Mr. 
Pickwick,  since  you  drank  the  waters.  It  appears  an  age, 
Mr.  Pickwick.  Re — markable  ! 11 

Such  were  the  expressions  with  which  Angelo  Cyrus  Bantam, 
Esquire,  M.C.,  took  Mr.  Pickwick^  hand ;  retaining  it  in  his, 
meantime,  and  shrugging  up  his  shoulders  with  a  constant 
succession  of  bows,  as  if  he  really  could  not  make  up  his  mind 
to  the  trial  of  letting  it  go  again. 

"  It  is  a  very  long  time  since  I  drank  the  waters,  certainly,11 
replied  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  for  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  I 
was  never  here  before.11 

"  Never  in  Ba — ath,  Mr.  Pickwick  ! "  exclaimed  the  Grand 
Master,  letting  the  hand  fall  in  astonishment.  "Never  in 
Ba — ath  !  He  !  he  !  Mr.  Pickwick,  you  are  a  wag.  Not  bad, 
not  bad.  Good,  good.  He!  he!  he!  Re — markable!" 

"To  my  shame,  I  must  say  that  I  am  perfectly  serious,11 
rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick.  "I  really  never  was  here  before.11 

"  Oh,  I  see,11  exclaimed  the  Grand  Master,  looking  extremely 


MASTER  OF  THE  CEREMONIES.  109 

pleased;  "Yes,  yes — good,  good — better  and  better.  You 
are  the  gentleman  of  whom  we  have  heard.  Yes;  we  know 
you,  Mr.  Pickwick ;  we  know  you." 

"The  reports  of  the  trial  in  those  confounded  papers," 
thought  Mr.  Pickwick.  "They  have  heard  all  about  me." 

"You  are  the  gentleman  residing  on  Clapham  Green," 
resumed  Bantam,  "who  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs  from 
imprudently  taking  cold  after  port  wine;  who  could  not  be 
moved  in  consequence  of  acute  suffering,  and  who  had  the 
water  from  the  King's  Bath  bottled  at  one  hundred  and 
three  degrees,  and  sent  by  waggon  to  his  bed-room  in  town, 
where  he  bathed,  sneezed,  and  same  day  recovered.  Very 
re-markable ! " 

Mr.  Pickwick  acknowledged  the  compliment  which  the 
supposition  implied,  but  had  the  self-denial  to  repudiate  it, 
notwithstanding ;  and  taking  advantage  of  a  moment's  silence 
on  the  part  of  the  M.C.,  begged  to  introduce  his  friends,  Mr. 
Tupman,  Mr.  Winkle,  and  Mr.  Snodgrass.  An  introduction 
which  overwhelmed  the  M.C.  with  delight  and  honour. 

"  Bantam,"  said  Mr.  Dowler,  "  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends 
are  strangers.  They  must  put  their  names  down.  Where's 
the  book  ?  " 

"The  register  of  the  distinguished  visitors  in  Ba — ath  will 
be  at  the  Pump  Room  this  morning  at  two  o'clock,"  replied 
the  M.C.  "Will  you  guide  our  friends  to  that  splendid 
building,  and  enable  me  to  procure  their  autographs  ? " 

"I  will,"  rejoined  Dowler.  "This  is  a  long  call.  It's 
time  to  go.  I  shall  be  here  again  in  an  hour.  Come." 

"This  is  a  ball  night,"  said  the  M.C.,  again  taking  Mr. 
Pickwick's  hand,  as  he  rose  to  go.  "The  ball-nights  in 
Ba — ath  are  moments  snatched  from  Paradise ;  rendered 
bewitching  by  music,  beauty,  elegance,  fashion,  etiquette, 
and — and — above  all,  by  the  absence  of  tradespeople,  who 
are  quite  inconsistent  with  Paradise ;  and  who  have  an 
amalgamation  of  themselves  at  the  Guildhall  every  fortnight, 
which  is,  to  say  the  least,  remarkable.  Good  bye,  good 


110  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

bye ! "  and  protesting  all  the  way  down  stairs  that  he  was 
most  satisfied,  and  most  delighted,  and  most  overpowered, 
and  most  flattered,  Angelo  Cyrus  Bantam,  Esquire,  M.C., 
stepped  into  a  very  elegant  chariot  that  waited  at  the  door, 
and  rattled  off. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  friends, 
escorted  by  Dowler,  repaired  to  the  Assembly  Rooms,  and 
wrote  their  names  down  in  a  book.  An  instance  of  conde- 
scension at  which  Angleo  Bantam  was  even  more  overpowered 
than  before.  Tickets  of  admission  to  that  evening's  assembly 
were  to  have  been  prepared  for  the  whole  party,  but  as  they 
were  not  ready,  Mr.  Pickwick  undertook,  despite  all  the 
protestations  to  the  contrary  of  Angelo  Bantam,  to  send  Sam 
for  them  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon^  to  the  M.C.'s  house 
in  Queen  Square.  Having  taken  a  short  walk  through  the 
city,  and  arrived  at  the  unanimous  conclusion  that  Park  Street 
was  very  much  like  the  perpendicular  street  a  man  sees  in  a 
dream,  which  he  cannot  get  up  for  the  life  of  him,  they 
returned  to  the  White  Hart,  and  despatched  Sam  on  the 
errand  to  which  his  master  had  pledged  him. 

Sam  Weller  put  on  his  hat  in  a  very  easy  and  graceful 
manner,  and  thrusting  his  hands  in  his  waistcoat  pockets, 
walked  with  great  deliberation  to  Queen  Square,  whistling  as 
he  went  along,  several  of  the  most  popular  airs  of  the  day, 
as  arranged  with  entirely  new  movements  for  that  noble 
instrument  the  organ,  either  mouth  or  barrel.  Arriving  at 
the  number  in  Queen  Square  to  which  he  had  been  directed, 
he  left  off  whistling,  and  gave  a  cheerful  knock,  which  was 
instantaneously  answered  by  a  powdered-headed  footman  in 
gorgeous  livery,  and  of  symmetrical  stature. 

"Is  this  here  Mr.  Bantam's,  old  feller?  inquired  Sam 
Weller,  nothing  abashed  by  the  blaze  of  splendour  which 
burst  upon  his  sight,  in  the  person  of  the  powdered-headed 
footman  with  the  gorgeous  livery. 

"  Why,  young  man  ? "  was  the  haughty  inquiry  of  the 
powdered-headed  footman. 


PLUSH  AND  POWDER.  Ill 

"  'Cos  if  it  is,  jist  you  step  into  him  with  that  ""ere  card, 
and  say  Mr.  Veller's  a  waitin',  will  you?"  said  Sam.  And 
saying  it,  he  very  coolly  walked  into  the  hall,  and  sat  down. 

The  powdered-headed  footman  slammed  the  door  very 
hard,  and  scowled  very  grandly ;  but  both  the  slam  and  the 
scowl  were  lost  upon  Sam,  who  was  regarding  a  mahogany 
umbrella  stand  with  every  outward  token  of  critical  approval. 

Apparently,  his  master's  reception  of  the  card  had  impressed 
the  powdered-headed  footman  in  Sam's  favour,  for  when  he 
came  back  from  delivering  it,  he  smiled  in  a  friendly  manner, 
and  said  that  the  answer  would  be  ready  directly. 

"Werry  good,"  said  Sam.  ''Tell  the  old  gen'lm'n  not  to 
put  himself  in  a  perspiration.  No  hurry,  six-foot.  I've  had 
my  dinner." 

"You  dine  early,  sir,"  said  the  powdered-headed  footman. 

"I  find  I  gets  on  better  at  supper  when  I  does,"  replied 
Sam. 

"  Have  you  been  long  in  Bath,  sir  ?  "  inquired  the  powdered- 
headed  footman.  "  I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
of  you  before." 

"I  haven't  created  any  wery  surprisin1  sensation  here,  as 
yet,"  rejoined  Sam,  "for  me  and  the  other  fash'nables  only 
come  last  night." 

"Nice  place,  sir,"  said  the  powdered-headed  footman. 

"  Seems  so,"  observed  Sam. 

"Pleasant  society,  sir,"  remarked  the  powdered-headed 
footman.  "Very  agreeable  servants,  sir." 

"I  should  think  they  wos,"  replied  Sam.  "Affable, 
unaffected,  say-nothin'-to-nobody  sort  o'  fellers.'^ 

"Oh,  very  much  so,  indeed,  sir,"  said  the  powdered-headed 
footman,  taking  Sam's  remark  as  a  high  compliment.  "  Very 
much  so  indeed.  Do  you  do  anything  in  this  way,  sir?" 
inquired  the  tall  footman,  producing  a  small  snuff-box  with 
a  fox's  head  on  the  top  of  it. 

"Not  without  sneezing,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Why,  it  is  difficult,  sir,  I  confess,"  said  the  tall  footman. 


112  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  It  may  be  done  by  degrees,  sir.  Coffee  is  the  best  practice. 
I  carried  coffee,  sir,  for  a  long  time.  It  looks  very  like  rappee, 
sir." 

Here,  a  sharp  pull  at  the  bell,  reduced  the  powdered-headed 
footman  to  the  ignominious  necessity  of  putting  the  fox's 
head  in  his  pocket,  and  hastening  with  a  humble  countenance 
to  Mr.  Bantam's  "  study."  By  the  by,  who  ever  knew  a  man 
who  never  read  or  wrote  either,  who  hadn't  got  some  small 
back  parlour  which  he  would  call  a  study ! 

"There  is  the  answer,  sir,"  said  the  powdered-headed 
footman.  "  I  am  afraid  you'll  find  it  inconveniently  large." 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  said  Sam,  taking  a  letter  with  a  small 
enclosure.  "It's  just  possible  as  exhausted  nature  may 
manage  to  surwive  it." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  meet  again,  sir,"  said  the  powdered-headed 
footman,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  following  Sam  out  to  the 
door-step. 

"  You  are  wery  obliging  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "  Now,  don't 
allow  yourself  to  be  fatigued  beyond  your  powers ;  there's  a 
amiable  bein'.  Consider  what  you  owe  to  society,  and  don't 
let  yourself  be  injured  by  too  much  work.  For  the  sake 
o'  your  feller  creeturs,  keep  your  self  as  quiet  as  you  can ; 
only  think  what  a  loss  you  would  be ! "  with  these  pathetic 
words,  Sam  Weller  departed. 

"  A  very  singular  young  man  that,"  said  the  powdered-headed 
footman,  looking  after  Mr.  Weller,  with  a  countenance  which 
clearly  showed  he  could  make  nothing  of  him. 

Sam  said  nothing  at  all.  He  winked,  shook  his  head, 
smiled,  winked  again ;  and  with  an  expression  of  countenance 
which  seemed  to  denote  that  he  was  greatly  amused  with 
something  or  other,  walked  merrily  away. 

At  precisely  twenty  minutes  before  eight  o'clock  that  night, 
Angelo  Cyrus  Bantam,  Esq.,  the  Master  of  the  Ceremonies, 
emerged  from  his  chariot  at  the  door  of  the  Assembly  Rooms 
in  the  same  wig,  the  same  teeth,  the  same  eye-glass,  the  same 
watch  and  seals,  the  same  rings,  the  same  shirt-pin,  and  the 


GAIETY,  GLITTER  AND  SHOW.  113 

same  cane.  The  only  observable  alterations  in  his  appearance 
were,  that  he  wore  a  brighter  blue  coat,  with  a  white  silk 
lining :  black  tights,  black  silk  stockings,  and  pumps,  and  a 
white  waistcoat,  and  was,  if  possible,  just  a  thought  more 
scented. 

Thus  attired,  the  Master  of  the  Ceremonies,  in  strict 
discharge  of  the  important  duties  of  his  all-important  office, 
planted  himself  in  the  rooms  to  receive  the  company. 

Bath  being  full,  the  company  and  the  sixpences  for  tea, 
poured  in,  in  shoals.  In  the  ball-room,  the  long  card-room, 
the  octagonal  card-room,  the  staircases,  and  the  passages,  the 
hum  of  many  voices,  and  the  sound  of  many  feet,  were 
perfectly  bewildering.  Dresses  rustled,  feathers  waved,  lights 
shone,  and  jewels  sparkled.  There  was  the  music — not  of  the 
quadrille  band,  for  it  had  not  yet  commenced ;  but  the  music 
of  soft  tiny  footsteps,  with  now  and  then  a  clear  merry  laugh 
— low  and  gentle,  but  very  pleasant  to  hear  in  a  female  voice, 
whether  in  Bath  or  elsewhere.  Brilliant  eyes,  lighted  up 
with  pleasurable  expectation,  gleamed  from  every  side;  and 
look  where  you  would,  some  exquisite  form  glided  gracefully 
through  the  throng,  and  was  no  sooner  lost,  than  it  was 
replaced  by  another  as  dainty  and  bewitching. 

In  the  tea-room,  and  hovering  round  the  card- tables, 
were  a  vast  number  of  queer  old  ladies  and  decrepid  old 
gentlemen,  discussing  all  the  small  talk  and  scandal  of  the 
day,  with  a  relish  and  gusto  which  sufficiently  bespoke  the 
intensity  of  the  pleasure  they  derived  from  the  occupation. 
Mingled  with  these  groups,  were  three  or  four  matchmaking 
mammas,  appearing  to  be  wholly  absorbed  by  the  conversation 
in  which  they  were  taking  part,  but  failing  not  from  time 
to  time  to  cast  an  anxious  sidelong  glance  upon  their  daughters, 
who,  remembering  the  maternal  injunction  to  make  the  best 
use  of  their  youth,  had  already  commenced  incipient  flirtations 
in  the  mislaying  of  scarves,  putting  on  gloves,  setting  down 
cups,  and  so  forth ;  slight  matters  apparently,  but  which  may 
be  turned  to  surprisingly  good  account  by  expert  practitioners. 


114  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Lounging  near  the  doors,  and  in  remote  corners,  were 
various  knots  of  silly  young  men,  displaying  various 
varieties  of  puppyism  and  stupidity ;  amusing  all  sensible 
people  near  them  with  their  folly  and  conceit;  and  happily 
thinking  themselves  the  objects  of  general  admiration.  A 
wise  and  merciful  dispensation  which  no  good  man  will 
quarrel  with. 

And  lastly,  seated  on  some  of  the  back  benches,  where  they 
had  already  taken  up  their  positions  for  the  evening,  were 
divers  unmarried  ladies  past  their  grand  climacteric,  who,  not 
dancing  because  there  were  no  partners  for  them,  and  not 
playing  cards  lest  they  should  be  set  down  as  irretrievably 
single,  were  in  the  favourable  situation  of  being  able  to  abuse 
everybody  without  reflecting  on  themselves.  In  short,  they 
could  abuse  everybody,  because  everybody  was  there.  It  was 
a  scene  of  gaiety,  glitter,  and  show ;  of  richly-dressed  people, 
handsome  mirrors,  chalked  floors,  girandoles,  and  wax-candles ; 
and  in  all  parts  of  the  scene,  gliding  from  spot  to  spot  in 
silent  softness,  bowing  obsequiously  to  this  party,  nodding 
familiarly  to  that,  and  smiling  complacently  on  all,  was  the 
sprucely  attired  person  of  Angelo  Cyrus  Bantam,  Esquire, 
Master  of  the  Ceremonies. 

"Stop  in  the  tea-room.  Take  your  sixpenn'orth.  They 
lay  on  hot  water,  and  call  it  tea.  Drink  it,"  said  Mr.  Dowler, 
in  a  loud  voice,  directing  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  advanced  at  the 
head  of  the  little  party,  with  Mrs.  Dowler  on  his  arm.  Into 
the  tea-room  Mr.  Pickwick  turned ;  and  catching  sight  of  him, 
Mr.  Bantam  corkscrewed  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and 
welcomed  him  with  ecstasy. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  am  highly  honoured.  Ba — ath  is  favoured. 
Mrs.  Dowler,  you  embellish  the  rooms.  I  congratulate  you 
on  your  feathers.  Re — markable  ! " 

"Any  body  here?""  inquired  Dowler,  suspiciously. 

"  Any  body  ! "  The  elite  of  Ba— ath.  Mr.  Pickwick,  do 
you  see  the  lady  in  the  gauze  turban  ?  " 

"  The  fat  old  lady  ?  *  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  innocently. 


FASHIONABLE   SOCIETY.  115 

"  Hush,  my  dear  sir — nobody's  fat  or  old  in  Ba — ath. 
That's  the  Dowager  Lady  Snuphanuph." 

"  Is  it  indeed  ?  "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"No  less  a  person,  I  assure  you,"  said  the  Master  of  the 
Ceremonies.  "Hush.  Draw  a  little  nearer,  Mr.  Pickwick. 
You  see  the  splendidly  dressed  young  man  coming  this  way  ? " 

"The  one  with  the  long  hair,  and  the  particularly  small 
forehead  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"The  same.  The  richest  young  man  in  Ba — ath  at  this 
moment.  Young  Lord  Mutanhed." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Yes.  You'll  hear  his  voice  in  a  moment,  Mr.  Pickwick. 
He'll  speak  to  me.  The  other  gentleman  with  him,  in  the 
red  under  waistcoat  and  dark  moustache,  is  the  Honourable 
Mr.  Crushton,  his  bosom  friend.  How  do  you  do,  my 
lord?" 

"Veway  hot,  Bantam,"  said  his  lordship. 

"It  is  very  warm,  my  lord,"  replied  the  M.C. 

"  Confounded,"  assented  the  Honourable  Mr.  Crushton. 

"  Have  you  seen  his  lordship's  mail  cart,  Bantam  ?  "  inquired 
the  Honourable  Mr.  Crushton,  after  a  short  pause,  during 
which  young  Lord  Mutanhed  had  been  endeavouring  to  stare 
Mr.  Pickwick  out  of  countenance,  and  Mr.  Crushton  had  been 
reflecting  what  subject  his  lordship  could  talk  about  best. 

"Dear  me,  no,"  replied  the  M.C.  "A  mail  cart!  What 
an  excellent  idea.  Re — markable!" 

"  Gwacious  heavens ! "  said  his  lordship,  "  I  thought 
evewebody  had  seen  the  new  mail  cart;  it's  the  neatest, 
pwettiest,  gwacefullest  thing  that  ever  wan  upon  wheels. 
Painted  wed,  with  a  cweam  piebald." 

"With  a  real  box  for  the  letters,  and  all  complete,13  said 
the  Honourable  Mr.  Crushton. 

"And  a  little  seat  in  fwont,  with  an  iwon  wail,  for  the 
dwiver,"  added  his  lordship.  "  I  dwove  it  over  to  Bwistol 
the  other  morning,  in  a  cwimson  coat,  with  two  servants 
widing  a  quarter  of  a  mile  behind;  and  confound  me  if  the 


116  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

people  didn't  wush  out  of  their  cottages,  and  awest  my  pwo- 
gwess,  to  know  if  I  wasn't  the  post.  Glorwious,  glorwious ! " 

At  this  anecdote  his  lordship  laughed  very  heartily,  as  did 
the  listeners,  of  course.  Then,  drawing  his  arm  through  that 
of  the  obsequious  Mr.  Crushton,  Lord  Mutanhed  walked 
away. 

"  Delightful  young  man,  his  lordship,"  said  the  Master  of 
the  Ceremonies. 

"  So  I  should  think,11  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  drily. 

The  dancing  having  commenced,  the  necessary  introductions 
having  been  made,  and  all  preliminaries  arranged,  Angelo 
Bantam  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  led  him  into  the  card- 
room. 

Just  at  the  very  moment  of  their  entrance,  the  Dowager 
Lady  Snuphanuph  and  two  other  ladies  of  an  ancient  and 
whist-like  appearance,  were  hovering  over  an  unoccupied  card- 
table  ;  and  they  no  sooner  set  eyes  upon  Mr.  Pickwick  under 
the  convoy  of  Angelo  Bantam,  than  they  exchanged  glances 
with  each  other,  seeing  that  he  was  precisely  the  very  person 
they  wanted,  to  make  up  the  rubber. 

"  My  dear  Bantam,"  said  the  Dowager  Lady  Snuphanuph, 
coaxingly,  "  find  us  some  nice  creature  to  make  up  this  table ; 
there's  a  good  soul."  Mr.  Pickwick  happened  to  be  looking 
another  way  at  the  moment,  so  her  ladyship  nodded  her  head 
towards  him,  and  frowned  expressively. 

"  My  friend  Mr.  Pickwick,  my  lady,  will  be  most  happy,  I 
am  sure,  re — markably  so,"  said  the  M.C.,  taking  the  hint. 
"Mr.  Pickwick,  Lady  Snuphanuph — Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby — 
Miss  Bolo." 

Mr.  Pickwick  bowed  to  each  of  the  ladies,  and,  finding 
escape  impossible,  cut.  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Miss  Bolo  against 
Lady  Snuphanuph  and  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby. 

As  the  trump  card  was  turned  up,  at  the  commencement  of 
the  second  deal,  two  young  ladies  hurried  into  the  room,  and 
took  their  stations  on  either  side  of  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby's 
chair,  where  they  waited  patiently  until  the  hand  was  over. 


MR.   PICKWICK  PLAYS  WHIST.  117 

"Now,  Jane,"  said  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby,  turning  to  one 
of  the  girls,  "  what  is  it  ?  " 

"I  came  to  ask,  ma,  whether  I  might  dance  with  the 
youngest  Mr.  Crawley,'1  whispered  the  prettier  and  younger 
of  the  two. 

"  Good  God,  Jane,  how  can  you  think  of  such  things  ? " 
replied  the  mamma,  indignantly.  "Haven't  you  repeatedly 
heard  that  his  father  has  eight  hundred  a-year,  which  dies 
with  him  ?  I  am  ashamed  of  you.  Not  on  any  account." 

"Ma,"  whispered  the  other,  who  was  much  older  than  her 
sister,  and  very  insipid  and  artificial,  "Lord  Mutanhed  has 
been  introduced  to  me.  I  said  I  thought  I  wasn't  engaged, 
ma." 

"  You're  a  sweet  pet,  my  love,  replied  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby, 
tapping  her  daughter's  cheek  with  her  fan,  "and  are  always 
to  be  trusted.  He's  immensely  rich,  my  dear.  Bless  you ! " 
With  these  words  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby  kissed  her  eldest 
daughter  most  affectionately,  and  frowning  in  a  warning 
manner  upon  the  other,  sorted  her  cards. 

Poor  Mr.  Pickwick !  he  had  never  played  with  three 
thorough-paced  female  card-players  before.  They  were  so 
desperately  sharp,  that  they  quite  frightened  him.  If  he 
played  a  wrong  card,  Miss  Bolo  looked  a  small  armoury  of 
daggers ;  if  he  stopped  to  consider  which  was  the  right  one, 
Lady  Snuphanuph  would  throw  herself  back  in  her  chair,  and 
smile  with  a  mingled  glance  of  impatience  and  pity  to  Mrs. 
Colonel  Wugsby ;  at  which  Mrs.  Colonel  Wugsby  would  shrug 
up  her  shoulders,  and  cough,  as  much  as  to  say  she  wondered 
whether  he  ever  would  begin.  Then,  at  the  end  of  every 
hand,  Miss  Bolo  would  inquire  with  a  dismal  countenance 
and  reproachful  sigh,  why  Mr.  Pickwick  had  not  returned  that 
diamond,  or  led  the  club,  or  roughed  the  spade,  or  finessed 
the  heart,  or  led  through  the  honour,  or  brought  out  the 
ace,  or  played  up  to  the  king,  or  some  such  thing;  and  in 
reply  to  all  these  grave  charges,  Mr.  Pickwick  would  be  wholly 
unable  to  plead  any  justification  whatever,  having  by  this  time 


118  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

forgotten  all  about  the  game.  People  came  and  looked  on, 
too,  which  made  Mr.  Pickwick  nervous.  Besides  all  this,  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  distracting  conversation  near  the  table, 
between  Angelo  Bantam  and  the  two  Miss  Matinters,  who, 
being  single  and  singular,  paid  great  court  to  the  Master  of 
the  Ceremonies,  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  stray  partner  now 
and  then.  All  these  things,  combined  with  the  noises  and 
interruptions  of  constant  comings  in  and  goings  out,  made 
Mr.  Pickwick  play  rather  badly ;  the  cards  were  against  him, 
also ;  and  Avhen  they  left  off  at  ten  minutes  past  eleven,  Miss 
Bolo  rose  from  the  table  considerably  agitated,  and  went 
straight  home,  in  a  flood  of  tears,  and  a  sedan-chair. 

Being  joined  by  his  friends,  who  one  and  all  protested 
that  they  had  scarcely  ever  spent  a  more  pleasant  evening, 
Mr.  Pickwick  accompanied  them  to  the  White  Hart,  and 
having  soothed  his  feelings  with  something  hot,  went  to  bed, 
and  to  sleep,  almost  simultaneously. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

THE  CHIEF  FEATURES  OF  WHICH,  WILL  BE  FOUND  TO  BE  AN 
AUTHENTIC  VERSION  OF  THE  LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  BLADUD, 
AND  A  MOST  EXTRAORDINARY  CALAMITY  THAT  BEFEL  MR. 
WINKLE. 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  contemplated  a  stay  of  at  least  two 
months  in  Bath,  he  deemed  it  advisable  to  take  private 
lodgings  for  himself  and  friends  for  that  period ;  and  as  a 
favourable  opportunity  offered  for  their  securing,  on  moderate 
terms,  the  upper  portion  of  a  house  in  the  Royal  Crescent, 
which  was  larger  than  they  required,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dowler 
offered  to  relieve  them  of  a  bed-room  and  sitting-room.  This 
proposition  was  at  once  accepted,  and  in  three  days'  time  they 
were  all  located  in  their  new  abode,  when  Mr.  Pickwick  began 
to  drink  the  waters  with  the  utmost  assiduity.  Mr.  Pickwick 
took  them  systematically.  He  drank  a  quarter  of  a  pint  before 
breakfast,  and  then  walked  up  a  hill ;  and  another  quarter  of 
a  pint  after  breakfast,  and  then  walked  down  a  hill ;  and  after 
every  fresh  quarter  of  a  pint,  Mr.  Pickwick  declared,  in  the 
most  solemn  and  emphatic  terms,  that  he  felt  a  great  deal 
better :  whereat  his  friends  were  very  much  delighted,  though 
they  had  not  been  previously  aware  that  there  was  anything 
the  matter  with  him. 

The  great  pump-room  is  a  spacious  saloon,  ornamented 
with  Corinthian  pillars,  and  a  music  gallery,  and  a  Tompion 
clock,  and  a  statue  of  Nash,  and  a  golden  inscription,  to 


120  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

which  all  the  water-drinkers  should  attend,  for  it  appeals 
to  them  in  the  cause  of  a  deserving  charity.  There  is  a 
large  bar  with  a  marble  vase,  out  of  which  the  pumper 
gets  the  water;  and  there  are  a  number  of  yellow-looking 
tumblers,  out  of  which  the  company  get  it;  and  it  is  a 
most  edifying  and  satisfactory  sight  to  behold  the  perse- 
verance and  gravity  with  which  they  swallow  it.  There  are 
baths  near  at  hand,  in  which  a  part  of  the  company  wash 
themselves ;  and  a  band  plays  afterwards,  to  congratulate  the 
remainder  on  their  having  done  so.  There  is  another  pump- 
room,  into  which  infirm  ladies  and  gentlemen  are  wheeled,  in 
such  an  astonishing  variety  of  chairs  and  chaises,  that  any 
adventurous  individual  who  goes  in  with  the  regular  number 
of  toes,  is  in  imminent  danger  of  coming  out  without  them ; 
and  there  is  a  third,  into  which  the  quiet  people  go,  for  it 
is  less  noisy  than  either.  There  is  an  immensity  of  promenading, 
on  crutches  and  off,  with  sticks  and  without,  and  a  great 
deal  of  conversation,  and  liveliness,  and  pleasantry. 

Every  morning,  the  regular  water-drinkers,  Mr.  Pickwick 
among  the  number,  met  each  other  in  the  pump-room,  took 
their  quarter  of  a  pint,  and  walked  constitutionally.  At  the 
afternoon's  promenade,  Lord  Mutanhed,  and  the  Honourable 
Mr.  Crushton,  the  Dowager  Lady  Snuphanuph,  Mrs.  Colonel 
Wugsby,  and  all  the  great  people,  and  all  the  morning  water- 
drinkers,  met  in  grand  assemblage.  After  this,  they  walked 
out,  or  drove  out,  or  were  pushed  out  in  bath  chairs,  and 
met  one  another  again.  After  this,  the  gentlemen  went  to 
the  reading-rooms  and  met  divisions  of  the  mass.  After  this, 
they  went  home.  If  it  were  theatre  night,  perhaps  they  met 
at  the  theatre;  if  it  were  assembly  night,  they  met  at  the 
rooms ;  and  if  it  were  neither,  they  met  the  next  day.  A  very 
pleasant  routine,  with  perhaps  a  slight  tinge  of  sameness. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  sitting  up  by  himself,  after  a  day  spent 
in  this  manner,  making  entries  in  his  journal :  his  friends  having 
retired  to  bed :  when  he  was  roused  by  a  gentle  tap  at  the 
room  door. 


THE  TRUE  LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  BLADUD.     121 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Craddock,  the  landlady, 
peeping  in ;  "  but  did  you  want  anything  more,  sir  ? " 

"Nothing  more,  ma'am,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  My  young  girl  is  gone  to  bed,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Craddock ; 
"and  Mr.  Dowler  is  good  enough  to  say  that  hell  sit  up  for 
Mrs.  Dowler,  as  the  party  isn't  expected  to  be  over  till  late; 
so  I  was  thinking  if  you  wanted  nothing  more,  Mr.  Pickwick, 
I  would  go  to  bed."" 

"  By  all  means,  ma'am,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 
<  "  Wish  you  good  night,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Craddock. 

"  Good  night,  ma'am,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Mrs.  Craddock  closed  the  door,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  resumed 
his  writing. 

In  half  an  hour's  time  the  entries  were  concluded.  Mr. 
Pickwick  carefully  rubbed  the  last  page  on  the  blotting-paper, 
shut  up  the  book,  wiped  his  pen  on  the  bottom  of  the  inside 
of  his  coat  tail,  and  opened  the  drawer  of  the  inkstand  to 
put  it  carefully  away.  There  were  a  couple  of  sheets  of 
writing-paper,  pretty  closely  written  over,  in  the  inkstand 
drawer,  and  they  were  folded  so,  that  the  title,  which  was 
in  a  good  round  hand,  was  fully  disclosed  to  him.  Seeing 
from  this,  that  it  was  no  private  document :  and  as  it  seemed 
to  relate  to  Bath,  and  was  very  short :  Mr.  Pickwick  unfolded 
it,  lighted  his  bed-room  candle  that  it  might  burn  up  well  by 
the  time  he  finished ;  and  drawing  his  chair  nearer  the  fire, 
read  as  follows : 

THE  TRUE  LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  BLADUD. 

"  Less  than  two  hundred  years  agone,  on  one  of  the  public 
baths  in  this  city,  there  appeared  an  inscription  in  honour 
of  its  mighty  founder,  the  renowned  Prince  Bladud.  That 
inscription  is  now  erased. 

"  For  many  hundred  years  before  that  time,  there  had  been 
handed  down,  from  age  to  age,  an  old  legend,  that  the  illus- 
trious Prince  being  afflicted  with  leprosy,  on  his  return  from 
reaping  a  rich  harvest  of  knowledge  in  Athens,  shunned  the 


122  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

court  of  his  royal  father,  and  consorted  moodily  with  husband- 
men and  pigs.  Among  the  herd  (so  said  the  legend)  was  a 
pig  of  grave  and  solemn  countenance,  with  whom  the  Prince 
had  a  fellow  feeling — for  he  too  was  wise — a  pig  of  thoughtful 
and  reserved  demeanour;  an  animal  superior  to  his  fellows, 
whose  grunt  was  terrible,  and  whose  bite  was  sharp.  The 
young  Prince  sighed  deeply  as  he  looked  upon  the  countenance 
of  the  majestic  swine;  he  thought  of  his  royal  father,  and 
his  eyes  were  bedewed  with  tears. 

"This  sagacious  pig  was  fond  of  bathing  in  rich,  moist 
mud.  Not  in  summer,  as  common  pigs  do,  now,  to  cool 
themselves,  and  did  even  in  those  distant  ages  (which  is  a 
proof  that  the  light  of  civilisation  had  already  begun  to 
dawn,  though  feebly),  but  in  the  cold  sharp  days  of  winter. 
His  coat  was  ever  so  sleek,  and  his  complexion  so  clear,  that 
the  Prince  resolved  to  essay  the  purifying  qualities  of  the 
same  water  that  his  friend  resorted  to.  He  made  the  trial. 
Beneath  that  black  mud,  bubbled  the  hot  springs  of  Bath. 
He  washed,  and  was  cured.  Hastening  to  his  father's  court, 
he  paid  his  best  respects,  and  returning  quickly  hither,  founded 
this  city,  and  its  famous  baths. 

"He  sought  the  pig  with  all  the  ardour  of  their  early 
friendship — but,  alas  !  the  waters  had  been  his  death.  He 
had  imprudently  taken  a  bath  at  too  high  a  temperature,  and 
the  natural  philosopher  was  no  more !  He  was  succeeded  by 
Pliny,  who  also  fell  a  victim  to  his  thirst  for  knowledge. 

"This  was  the  legend.     Listen  to  the  true  one. 

"A  great  many  centuries  since,  there  flourished,  in  great 
state,  the  famous  and  renowned  Lud  Hudibras,  king  of  Britain. 
He  was  a  mighty  monarch.  The  earth  shook  when  he  walked  ; 
he  was  so  very  stout.  His  people  basked  in  the  light  of  his 
countenance:  it  was  so  red  and  glowing.  He  was,  indeed, 
every  inch  a  king.  And  there  were  a  good  many  inches  of 
him  too,  for  although  he  was  not  very  tall,  he  was  a  remarkable 
size  round,  and  the  inches  that  he  wanted  in  height,  he  made 
up  in  circumference.  If  any  degenerate  monarch  of  modern 


THE   MIGHTY  FAMILY  OF  LUD.  123 

times  could  be  in  any  way  compared  with  him,  I  should  say 
the  venerable  King  Cole  would  be  that  illustrious  potentate. 

"This  good  king  had  a  queen,  who  eighteen  years  before, 
had  had  a  son,  who  was  called  Bladud.  He  was  sent  to  a 
preparatory  seminary  in  his  father's  dominions  until  he  was 
ten  years  old,  and  was  then  dispatched,  in  charge  of  a  trusty 
messenger,  to  a  finishing  school  at  Athens;  and  as  there  was 
no  extra  charge  for  remaining  during  the  holidays,  and  no 
notice  required  previous  to  the  removal  of  a  pupil,  there  he 
remained  for  eight  long  years,  at  the  expiration  of  which 
time,  the  king  his  father  sent  the  lord  chamberlain  over,  to 
settle  the  bill,  and  to  bring  him  home;  which,  the  lord 
chamberlain  doing,  was  received  with  shouts,  and  pensioned 
immediately. 

"When  King  Lud  saw  the  Prince  his  son,  and  found  he 
had  grown  up  such  a  fine  young  man,  he  perceived  at  once 
what  a  grand  thing  it  would  be  to  have  him  married  without 
delay,  so  that  his  children  might  be  the  means  of  perpetuating 
the  glorious  race  of  Lud,  down  to  the  very  latest  ages  of 
the  world.  With  this  view,  he  sent  a  special  embassy, 
composed  of  great  noblemen  who  had  nothing  particular  to  do, 
and  wanted  lucrative  employment,  to  a  neighbouring  king, 
and  demanded  his  fair  daughter  in  marriage  for  his  son; 
stating  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  anxious  to  be  on  the 
most  affectionate  terms  with  his  brother  and  friend,  but  that 
if  they  couldn't  agree  in  arranging  this  marriage,  he  should 
be  under  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  invading  his  kingdom, 
and  putting  his  eyes  out.  To  this,  the  other  king  (who  was 
the  weaker  of  the  two)  replied,  that  he  was  very  much  obliged 
to  his  friend  and  brother  for  all  his  goodness  and  magnanimity, 
and  that  his  daughter  was  quite  ready  to  be  married, 
whenever  Prince  Bladud  liked  to  come  and  fetch  her. 

"This  answer  no  sooner  reached  Britain,  than  the  whole 
nation  were  transported  with  joy.  Nothing  was  heard,  on  all 
sides,  but  the  sounds  of  feasting  and  revelry, — except  the 
chinking  of  money  as  it  was  paid  in  by  the  people  to  the 


124  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

collector  of  the  Royal  Treasures,  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the 
happy  ceremony.  It  was  upon  this  occasion  that  King  Lud, 
seated  on  the  top  of  his  throne  in  full  council,  rose,  in  the 
exuberance  of  his  feelings,  and  commanded  the  lord  chief 
justice  to  order  in  the  richest  wines  and  the  court  minstrels : 
an  act  of  graciousness  which  has  been,  through  the  ignorance 
of  traditionary  historians,  attributed  to  King  Cole,  in  those 
celebrated  lines  in  which  his  majesty  is  represented  as 

Calling  for  his  pipe,  and  calling  for  his  pot, 
And  calling  for  his  fiddlers  three. 

Which  is  an  obvious  injustice  to  the  memory  of  King  Lud, 
and  a  dishonest  exaltation  of  the  virtues  of  King  Cole. 

"But,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  festivity  and  rejoicing,  there 
was  one  individual  present,  who  tasted  not  when  the  sparkling 
wines  were  poured  forth,  and  who  danced  not,  when  the 
minstrels  played.  This  was  no  other  than  Prince  Bladud 
himself,  in  honour  of  whose  happiness  a  whole  people  were 
at  that  very  moment,  straining  alike  their  throats  and  purse- 
strings.  The  truth  was,  that  the  Prince,  forgetting  the 
undoubted  right  of  the  minister  for  foreign  affairs  to  fall  in 
love  on  his  behalf,  had,  contrary  to  every  precedent  of  policy 
and  diplomacy,  already  fallen  in  love  on  his  own  account, 
and  privately  contracted  himself  unto  the  fair  daughter  of  a 
noble  Athenian. 

"Here  we  have  a  striking  example  of  one  of  the  manifold 
advantages  of  civilisation  and  refinement.  If  the  Prince  had 
lived  in  later  days,  he  might  at  once  have  married  the  object  of 
his  father's  choice,  and  then  set  himself  seriously  to  work,  to 
relieve  himself  of  the  burden  which  rested  heavily  upon  him. 
He  might  have  endeavoured  to  break  her  heart  by  a  systematic 
course  of  insult  and  neglect ;  or,  if  the  spirit  of  her  sex,  and 
a  proud  consciousness  of  her  many  wrongs  had  upheld  her 
under  this  ill  treatment,  he  might  have  sought  to  take  her 
life,  and  so  get  rid  of  her  effectually.  But  neither  mode  of 
relief  suggested  itself  to  Prince  Bladud;  so  he  solicited  a 
private  audience,  and  told  his  father. 


KING  LUD  IS  ENRAGED.  125 

"  It  is  an  old  prerogative  of  kings  to  govern  everything  but 
their  passions.  King  Lud  flew  into  a  frightful  rage,  tossed 
his  crown  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  caught  it  again — for  in 
those  days  kings  kept  their  crowns  on  their  heads,  and  not 
in  the  Tower — stamped  the  ground,  rapped  his  forehead, 
wondered  why  his  own  flesh  and  blood  rebelled  against  him, 
and,  finally,  calling  in  his  guards,  ordered  the  Prince  away 
to  instant  confinement  in  a  lofty  turret ;  a  course  of  treatment 
which  the  kings  of  old  very  generally  pursued  towards  their 
sons,  when  their  matrimonial  inclinations  did  not  happen  to 
point  to  the  same  quarter  as  their  own. 

"  When  Prince  Bladud  had  been  shut  up  in  the  lofty  turret 
for  the  greater  part  of  a  year,  with  no  better  prospect  before 
his  bodily  eyes  than  a  stone  wall,  or  before  his  mental  vision 
than  prolonged  imprisonment,  he  naturally  began  to  ruminate 
on  a  plan  of  escape,  which,  after  months  of  preparation,  he 
managed  to  accomplish ;  considerately  leaving  his  dinner  knife 
in  the  heart  of  his  gaoler,  lest  the  poor  fellow  (who  had  a 
family)  should  be  considered  privy  to  his  flight,  and  punished 
accordingly  by  the  infuriated  king. 

"  The  monarch  was  frantic  at  the  loss  of  his  son.  He  knew 
not  on  whom  to  vent  his  grief  and  wrath,  until  fortunately 
bethinking  himself  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  who  had  brought 
him  home,  he  struck  off  his  pension  and  his  head  together. 

"Meanwhile,  the  young  Prince,  effectually  disguised, 
wandered  on  foot  through  his  father's  dominions,  cheered  and 
supported  in  all  his  hardships  by  sweet  thoughts  of  the 
Athenian  maid,  who  was  the  innocent  cause  of  his  weary 
trials.  One  day  he  stopped  to  rest  in  a  country  village;  and 
seeing  that  there  were  gay  dances  going  forward  on  the  green, 
and  gay  faces  passing  to  and  fro,  ventured  to  inquire  of  a 
reveller  who  stood  near  him,  the  reason  for  this  rejoicing. 

"  '  Know  you  not,  O  stranger,'  was  the  reply,  *  of  the  recent 
proclamation  of  our  gracious  king  ? ' 

"  *  Proclamation  !  No.  What  proclamation  ? '  rejoined  the 
Prince — for  he  had  travelled  along  the  bye  and  little-frequented 


126  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

ways,  and  knew  nothing  of  what  had  passed  upon  the  public 
roads,  such  as  they  were. 

"'Why,'  replied  the  peasant,  'the  foreign  lady  that  our 
Prince  wished  to  wed,  is  married  to  a  foreign  noble  of  her 
own  country;  and  the  king  proclaims  the  fact,  and  a  great 
public  festival  besides ;  for  now,  of  course,  Prince  Bladud  will 
come  back  and  marry  the  lady  his  father  chose,  who  they  say 
is  as  beautiful  as  the  noonday  sun.  Your  health,  sir. 
God  save  the  King ! ' 

"  The  Prince  remained  to  hear  no  more.  He  fled  from  the 
spot,  and  plunged  into  the  thickest  recesses  of  a  neighbouring 
wood.  On,  on,  he  wandered,  night  and  day:  beneath  the 
blazing  sun,  and  the  cold  pale  moon:  through  the  dry  heat 
of  noon,  and  the  damp  cold  of  night :  in  the  grey  light  of 
morn,  and  the  red  glare  of  eve.  So  heedless  was  he  of  time 
or  object,  that  being  bound  for  Athens,  he  wandered  Us  far 
out  of  his  way  as  Bath. 

"There  was  no  city  where  Bath  stands,  then.  There  was 
no  vestige  of  human  habitation,  or  sign  of  man's  resort^  to 
bear  the  name;  but  there  was  the  same  noble  country,  the 
same  broad  expanse  of  hill  and  dale,  the  same  beautiful 
channel  stealing  on,  far  away:  the  same  lofty  mountains 
which,  like  the  troubles  of  life,  viewed  at  a  distance,  and 
partially  obscured  by  the  bright  mist  of  its  morning,  lose 
their  ruggedness  and  asperity,  and  seem  all  ease  and  softness. 
Moved  by  the  gentle  beauty  of  the  scene,  the  Prince  sank 
upon  the  green  turf,  and  bathed  his  swollen  feet  in  his  tears. 
" ' Oh ! '  said  the  unhappy  Bladud,  clasping  his  hands,  and 
mournfully  raising  his  eyes  towards  the  sky,  'would  that  my 
wanderings  might  end  here !  Would  that  these  grateful  tears 
with  which  I  now  mourn  hope  misplaced,  and  love  despised, 
might  flow  in  peace  for  ever ! ' 

"  The  wish  was  heard.  It  was  in  the  time  of  the  heathen 
deities,  who  used  occasionally  to  take  people  at  their  words, 
with  a  promptness,  in  some  cases  extremely  awkward.  The 
ground  opened  beneath  the  Prince's  feet;  he  sunk  into  the 


A  COPIOUS   FLOOD  OF  TEARS.  127 

chasm ;  and  instantaneously  it  closed  upon  his  head  for  ever, 
save  where  his  hot  tears  welled  up  through  the  earth,  and 
where  they  have  continued  to  gush  forth  ever  since. 

"  It  is  observable  that,  to  this  day,  large  numbers  of  elderly 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  have  been  disappointed  in  procuring 
partners,  and  almost  as  many  young  ones  who  are  anxious  to 
obtain  them,  repair,  annually,  to  Bath  to  drink  the  waters, 
from  which  they  derive  much  strength  and  comfort.  This 
is  most  complimentary  to  the  virtue  of  Prince  Bladud's  tears, 
and  strongly  corroborative  of  the  veracity  of  this  legend."" 

Mr.  Pickwick  yawned,  several  times,  when  he  had  arrived 
at  the  end  of  this  little  manuscript  :  carefully  refolded,  and 
replaced  it  in  the  inkstand  drawer :  and  then,  with  a  counte- 
nance expressive  of  the  utmost  weariness,  lighted  his  chamber 
candle,  and  went  up  stairs  to  bed. 

He  stopped  at  Mr.  Dowler's  door,  according  to  custom, 
and  knocked  to  say  good  night. 

"Ah!"  said  Dowler,  "going  to  bed?  I  wish  I  was. 
Dismal  night.  Windy ;  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Very,1'  said  Mr.  Pickwick.     "  Good  night/1 

"  Good  night." 

Mr.  Pickwick  went  to  his  bed-chamber,  and  Mr.  Dowler 
resumed  his  seat  before  the  fire,  in  fulfilment  of  his  rash 
promise  to  sit  up  till  his  wife  came  home. 

There  are  few  things  more  worrying  than  sitting  up  for 
somebody,  especially  if  that  somebody  be  at  a  party.  You 
cannot  help  thinking  how  quickly  the  time  passes  with  them, 
which  drags  so  heavily  with  you ;  and  the  more  you  think 
of  this,  the  more  your  hopes  of  their  speedy  arrival  decline. 
Clocks  tick  so  loud,  too,  when  you  are  sitting  up  alone,  and 
you  seem  as  if  you  had  an  under  garment  of  cobwebs  on. 
First,  something  tickles  your  right  knee,  and  then  the  same 
sensation  irritates  your  left.  You  have  no  sooner  changed 
your  position,  than  it  comes  again  in  the  arms ;  when  you 
have  fidgeted  your  limbs  into  all  sorts  of  odd  shapes,  you 


128  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

have  a  sudden  relapse  in  the  nose,  which  you  rub  as  if  to  rub 
it  off — as  there  is  no  doubt  you  would,  if  you  could.  Eyes, 
too,  are  mere  personal  inconveniences ;  and  the  wick  of  one 
candle  gets  an  inch  and  a  half  long,  while  you  are  snuffing 
the  other.  These,  and  various  other  little  nervous  annoyances, 
render  sitting  up  for  a  length  of  time  after  everybody  else  has 
gone  to  bed,  anything  but  a  cheerful  amusement. 

This  was  just  Mr.  Dowlers  opinion,  as  he  sat  before  the 
fire,  and  felt  honestly  indignant  with  all  the  inhuman  people 
at  the  party  who  were  keeping  him  up.  He  was  not  put  into 
better  humour  either,  by  the  reflection  that  he  had  taken  it 
into  his  head,  early  in  the  evening,  to  think  he  had  got  an 
ache  there,  and  so  stopped  at  home.  At  length,  after  several 
droppings  asleep,  and  fallings  forward  towards  the  bars,  and 
catchings  backward  soon  enough  to  prevent  being  branded  in 
the  face,  Mr.  Dowler  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  throw 
himself  on  the  bed  in  the  back-room  and  think — not  sleep, 
of  course. 

"  I'm  a  heavy  sleeper,  said  Mr.  Dowler,  as  he  flung  himself 
on  the  bed.  "  I  must  keep  awake.  I  suppose  I  shall  hear  a 
knock  here.  Yes.  I  thought  so.  I  can  hear  the  watchman. 
There  he  goes.  Fainter  now  though.  A  little  fainter.  He's 
turning  the  corner.  Ah!"  When  Mr.  Dowler  arrived  at 
this  point,  he  turned  the  corner  at  which  he  had  been  long 
hesitating,  and  fell  fast  asleep. 

Just  as  the  clock  struck  three,  there  was  blown  into  the 
crescent  a  sedan-chair  with  Mrs.  Dowler  inside,  borne  by  one 
short  fat  chairman,  and  one  long  thin  one,  who  had  had  much 
ado  to  keep  their  bodies  perpendicular :  to  say  nothing  of  the 
chair.  But  on  that  high  ground,  and  in  the  crescent,  which 
the  wind  swept  round  and  round  as  if  it  were  going  to  tear 
the  paving  stones  up,  its  fury  was  tremendous.  They  were 
very  glad  to  set  the  chair  down,  and  give  a  good  round  loud 
double-knock  at  the  street  door. 

They  waited  some  time,  but  nobody  came. 

"  Servants  is  in  the  arms  o1  Porpus,  I  think,"  said  the  short 


MR.  WINKLE  BEGINS  TO  DREAM.          129 

chairman,  warming  his  hands  at  the  attendant  link-boy's 
torch. 

"I  wish  he'd  give  'em  a  squeeze  and  wake  "em,1"  observed 
the  long  one. 

"  Knock  again,  will  you,  if  you  please,"  cried  Mrs.  Dowler 
from  the  chair.  "  Knock  two  or  three  times,  if  you  please." 

The  short  man  was  quite  willing  to  get  the  job  over,  as 
soon  as  possible;  so  he  stood  on  the  step,  and  gave  four  or 
five  most  startling  double  knocks,  of  eight  or  ten  knocks  a 
piece :  while  the  long  man  went  into  the  road,  and  looked 
up  at  the  windows  for  a  light. 

Nobody  came.     It  was  all  as  silent  and  dark  as  ever. 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Mrs.  Dowler.  "  You  must  knock  again, 
if  you  please." 

"  Their  ain't  a  bell,  is  there,  ma'am  ? "  said  the  short  chair- 
man. 

"Yes,  there  is,"  interposed  the  link-boy,  "I've  been  a 
ringing  at  it  ever  so  long." 

"  It's  only  a  handle,"  said  Mrs.  Dowler,  "  the  wire's  broken." 

"I  wish  the  servants'  heads  wos,"  growled  the  long  man. 

"  I  must  trouble  you  to  knock  again,  if  you  please,"  said 
Mrs.  Dowler  with  the  utmost  politeness. 

The  short  man  did  knock  again  several  times,  without 
producing  the  smallest  effect.  The  tall  man,  growing  very 
impatient,  then  relieved  him,  and  kept  on  perpetually  knock- 
ing double-knocks  of  two  loud  knocks  each,  like  an  insane 
postman. 

At  length  Mr.  Winkle  began  to  dream  that  he  was  at  a 
club,  and  that  the  members  being  very  refractory,  the  chair- 
man was  obliged  to  hammer  the  table  a  good  deal  to  preserve 
order;  then,  he  had  a  confused  notion  of  an  auction  room 
where  there  were  no  bidders,  and  the  auctioneer  was  buying 
everything  in;  and  ultimately  he  began  to  think  it  just 
within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  somebody  might  be 
knocking  at  the  street  door.  To  make  quite  certain,  however, 
he  remained  quiet  in  bed  for  ten  minutes  or  so,  and  listened ; 

VOL.    II.  K 


130  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

and  when  he  had  counted  two  or  three  and  thirty  knocks,  he 
felt  quite  satisfied,  and  gave  himself  a  great  deal  of  credit  for 
being  so  wakeful. 

"Rap  rap — rap  rap — rap  rap — ra,  ra,  ra,  ra,  ra,  rap!" 
went  the  knocker. 

Mr.  Winkle  jumped  out  of  bed,  wondering  very  much  what 
could  possibly  be  the  matter,  and  hastily  putting  on  his 
stockings  and  slippers,  folded  his  dressing  gown  round  him, 
lighted  a  flat  candle  from  the  rush-light  that  was  burning  in 
the  fire-place,  and  hurried  down  stairs. 

"Here's  somebody  comin'  at  last,  ma'am,"  said  the  short 
chairman. 

"  I  wish  I  wos  behind  him  vith  a  bradawl,"  muttered  the 
long  one. 

"Who's  there?"  cried  Mr.  Winkle,  undoing  the  chain. 

"  Don't  stop  to  ask  questions,  cast-iron  head,"  replied  the 
long  man,  with  great  disgust,  taking  it  for  granted  that  the 
inquirer  was  a  footman;  "but  open  the  door." 

"Come,  look  sharp,  timber  eye-lids,"  added  the  other 
encouragingly. 

Mr.  Winkle,  being  half  asleep,  obeyed  the  command 
mechanically,  opened  the  door  a  little,  and  peeped  out.  The 
first  thing  he  saw,  was  the  red  glare  of  the  link-boy's  torch. 
Startled  by  the  sudden  fear  that  the  house  might  be  on  fire, 
he  hastily  threw  the  door  wide  open,  and  holding  the  candle 
above  his  head,  stared  eagerly  before  him,  not  quite  certain 
whether  what  he  saw  was  a  sedan-chair  or  a  fire  engine. 
At  this  instant  there  came  a  violent  gust  of  wind ;  the  light 
was  blown  out ;  Mr.  Winkle  felt  himself  irresistibly  impelled 
on  to  the  steps ;  and  the  door  blew  to,  with  a  loud  crash. 

"  Well,  young  man,  now  you  have  done  it ! "  said  the  short 
chairman. 

Mr.  Winkle,  catching  sight  of  a  lady's  face  at  the  window 
of  the  sedan,  turned  hastily  round,  plied  the  knocker  with 
all  his  might  and  main,  and  called  frantically  upon  the 
chairman  to  take  the  chair  away  again. 


ON  THE  WRONG  SIDE  OF  THE  DOOR.     131 

"  Take  it  away,  take  it  away,11  cried  Mr.  Winkle.  "  Here's 
somebody  coming  out  of  another  house;  put  me  into  the 
chair.  Hide  me !  Do  something  with  me  !  *" 

All  this  time  he  was  shivering  with  cold;  and  every  time 
he  raised  his  hand  to  the  knocker,  the  wind  took  the  dressing 
gown  in  a  most  unpleasant  manner. 

"The  people  are  coming  down  the  Crescent  now.  There 
are  ladies  with  'em;  cover  me  up  with  something.  Stand 
before  me ! "  roared  Mr.  Winkle.  But  the  chairmen  were  too 
much  exhausted  with  laughing  to  afford  him  the  slightest 
assistance,  and  the  ladies  were  every  moment  approaching 
nearer  and  nearer. 

Mr.  Winkle  gave  a  last  hopeless  knock;  the  ladies  were 
only  a  few  doors  off.  He  threw  away  the  extinguished  candle, 
which,  all  this  time,  he  had  held  above  his  head,  and  fairly 
bolted  into  the  sedan-chair  where  Mrs.  Dowler  was. 

Now,  Mrs.  Craddock  had  heard  the  knocking  and  the  voices 
at  last;  and,  only  waiting  to  put  something  smarter  on  her 
head  than  her  night-cap,  ran  down  into  the  front  drawing- 
room  to  make  sure  that  it  was  the  right  party.  Throwing 
up  the  window-sash  as  Mr.  Winkle  was  rushing  into  the 
chair,  she  no  sooner  caught  sight  of  what  was  going  forward 
below,  than  she  raised  a  vehement  and  dismal  shriek,  and 
implored  Mr.  Dowler  to  get  up  directly,  for  his  wife  was 
running  away  with  another  gentleman. 

Upon  this  Mr.  Dowler  bounced  off  the  bed  as  abruptly 
as  an  India-rubber  ball,  and  rushing  into  the  front  room, 
arrived  at  one  window  just  as  Mr.  Pickwick  threw  up  the 
other :  when  the  first  object  that  met  the  gaze  of  both,  was 
Mr.  Winkle  bolting  into  the  sedan-chair. 

"  Watchman,"  shouted  Dowler  furiously ;  "  stop  him — hold 
him — keep  him  tight — shut  him  in,  till  I  come  down.  Til 
cut  his  throat — give  me  a  knife — from  ear  to  ear,  Mrs. 
Craddock — I  will ! "  And  breaking  from  the  shrieking 
landlady,  and  from  Mr.  Pickwick,  the  indignant  husband 
seized  a  small  supper-knife,  and  tore  into  the  street. 


132  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

But  Mr.  Winkle  didn't  wait  for  him.  He  no  sooner  heard 
the  horrible  threat  of  the  valorous  Dowler,  than  he  bounced 
out  of  the  sedan,  quite  as  quickly  as  he  had  bounced  in,  and 
throwing  off  his  slippers  into  the  road,  took  to  his  heels  and 
tore  round  the  Crescent,  hotly  pursued  by  Dowler  and  the 
watchman.  He  kept  ahead;  the  door  was  open  as  he  came 
round  the  second  time;  he  rushed  in,  slammed  it  in  Dowler's 
face,  mounted  to  his  bed-room,  locked  the  door,  piled  a  wash- 
hand-stand,  chest  of  drawers,  and  table  against  it,  and  packed 
up  a  few  necessaries  ready  for  flight  with  the  first  ray  of 
morning. 

Dowler  came  up  to  the  outside  of  the  door;  avowed, 
through  the  key-hole,  his  stedfast  determination  of  cutting 
Mr.  Winkle's  throat  next  day ;  and,  after  a  great  confusion 
of  voices  in  the  drawing-room,  amidst  which  that  of  Mr. 
Pickwick  was  distinctly  heard  endeavouring  to  make  peace, 
the  inmates  dispersed  to  their  several  bed-chambers,  and  all 
was  quiet  once  more. 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  inquiry  may  be  made,  where 
Mr.  Weller  was,  all  this  time?  We  will  state  where  he  was. 
in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

HONORABLY  ACCOUNTS  FOR  MR.  WELLER^S  ABSENCE,  BY  DE- 
SCRIBING A  SOIREE  TO  WHICH  HE  WAS  INVITED  AND  WENT; 
ALSO  RELATES  HOW  HE  WAS  ENTRUSTED  BY  MR.  PICKWICK 
WITH  A  PRIVATE  MISSION  OF  DELICACY  AND  IMPORTANCE. 

"MR.  WELLER,"  said  Mrs.  Craddock,  upon  the  morning  of 
this  very  eventful  day,  "  here's  a  letter  for  you." 

"  Wery  odd  that,"  said  Sam,  "  I'm  afeerd  there  must  be 
somethin'  the  matter,  for  I  don't  recollect  any  gen'lm'n  in 
my  circle  of  acquaintance  as  is  capable  o"'  writin'  one." 

"Perhaps  something  uncommon  has  taken  place,"  observed 
Mrs.  Craddock. 

"It  must  be  somethin1  wery  uncommon  indeed,  as  could 
produce  a  letter  out  o'  any  friend  o'  mine,"  replied  Sam, 
shaking  his  head  dubiously ;  "  nothin'  less  than  a  nat'ral 
conwulsion,  as  the  young  gen'lm'n  observed  ven  he  wos  took 
with  fits.  It  can't  be  from  the  gov'ner,"  said  Sam,  looking 
at  the  direction.  "  He  always  prints,  I  know,  'cos  he  learnt 
writin'  from  the  large  bills  in  the  bookin'  offices.  It's  a  wery 
strange  thing  now,  where  this  here  letter  can  ha'  come  from." 

As  Sam  said  this,  he  did  what  a  great  many  people  do  when 
they  are  uncertain  about  the  writer  of  a  note, — looked  at  the 
seal,  and  then  at  the  front,  and  then  at  the  back,  and  then 
at  the  sides,  and  then  at  the  superscription ;  and,  as  a  last 
resource,  thought  perhaps  he  might  as  well  look  at  the  inside, 
and  try  to  find  out,  from  that. 


134  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  It's  wrote  on  gilt-edged  paper,"  said  Sam,  as  he  unfolded 
it,  "and  sealed  in  bronze  vax  with  the  top  of  a  door-key. 
Now  for  it."  And,  with  a  very  grave  face,  Mr.  Weller  slowly 
read  as  follows : 

"A  select  company  of  the  Bath  footmen  presents  their 
compliments  to  Mr.  Weller,  and  requests  the  pleasure  of  his 
company  this  evening,  to  a  friendly  swarry,  consisting  of  a 
boiled  leg  of  mutton  with  the  usual  trimmings.  The  swarry 
to  be  on  table  at  half-past  nine  o'clock  punctually." 

This  was  inclosed  in  another  note,  which  ran  thus — 

"  Mr.  John  Smauker,  the  gentleman  who  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  Mr.  Weller  at  the  house  of  their  mutual  acquaint- 
ance, Mr.  Bantam,  a  few  days  since,  begs  to  enclose  Mr. 
Weller  the  herewith  invitation.  If  Mr.  Weller  will  call  on 
Mr.  John  Smauker  at  nine  o'clock,  Mr.  John  Smauker  will 
have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  Mr.  Weller. 

(Signed)    "JOHN  SMAUKER." 

The  envelope  was  directed  to  blank  Weller,  Esq.,  at  Mr. 
Pickwick's ;  and  in  a  parenthesis,  in  the  left  hand  corner, 
were  the  words  "  airy  bell,"  as  an  instruction  to  the  bearer. 

"  Veil,"  said  Sam,  "  this  is  comin'  it  rayther  powerful,  this 
is.  I  never  heerd  a  biled  leg  o'  mutton  called  a  swarry  afore. 
I  wonder  wot  they'd  call  a  roast  one." 

However,  without  waiting  to  debate  the  point,  Sam  at 
once  betook  himself  into  the  presence  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  and 
requested  leave  of  absence  for  that  evening,  which  was 
readily  granted.  With  this  permission,  and  the  street-door 
key,  Sam  Weller  issued  forth  a  little  before  the  appointed 
time,  and  strolled  leisurely  towards  Queen  Square,  which  he 
no  sooner  gained  than  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  beholding 
Mr.  John  Smauker  leaning  his  powdered  head  against  a  lamp 
post  at  a  short  distance  off,  smoking  a  cigar  through  an 
amber  tube. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Weller?"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker, 
raising  his  hat  gracefully  with  one  hand,  while  he  gently 


TEMPTATIONS  OF  PUBLIC  LIFE.  135 

waved  the  other  in  a  condescending  manner.  "How  do  you 
do,  sir?" 

"  Why,  reasonably  conwalessent,"  replied  Sam.  "  How  do 
you  find  yourself,  my  dear  feller?" 

"  Only  so  so,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker. 

"Ah,  youVe  been  a  workin'  too  hard,"  observed  Sam.  "I 
was  fearful  you  would ;  it  won't  do,  you  know ;  you  must  not 
give  way  to  that  ''ere  uncompromisin'  spirit  o'  your'n." 

"It's  not  so  much  that,  Mr.  Weller,"  replied  Mr.  John 
Smauker,  "as  bad  wine;  I'm  afraid  Fve  been  dissipating." 

"Oh!  that's  it,  is  it?"  said  Sam;  "that's  a  wery  bad 
complaint,  that." 

"And  yet  the  temptation,  you  see,  Mr.  Weller,"  observed 
Mr.  John  Smauker. 

"Ah,  to  be  sure,"  said  Sam. 

"Plunged  into  the  very  vortex  of  society,  you  know,  Mr. 
Weller,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker  with  a  sigh. 

"  Dreadful  indeed ! "  rejoined  Sam. 

"But  it's  always  the  way,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker;  "if 
your  destiny  leads  you  into  public  life,  and  public  station, 
you  must  expect  to  be  subjected  to  temptations  which  other 
people  is  free  from,  Mr.  Weller." 

"  Precisely  what  my  uncle  said,  ven  he  vent  into  the  public 
line,"  remarked  Sam,  "and  wery  right  the  old  gen'lm'n 
wos,  for  he  drank  hisself  to  death  in  somethin'  less  than  a 
quarter." 

Mr.  John  Smauker  looked  deeply  indignant  at  any  parallel 
being  drawn  between  himself  and  the  deceased  gentleman  in 
question ;  but  as  Sam's  face  was  in  the  most  immoveable  state 
of  calmness,  he  thought  better  of  it,  and  looked  affable  again. 

"Perhaps  we  had  better  be  walking,"  said  Mr.  Smauker,- 
consulting  a  copper  time-piece  which  dwelt  at  the  bottom  of 
a  deep  watch-pocket,  and  was  raised  to  the  surface  by  means 
of  a  black  string,  with  a  copper  key  at  the  other  end. 

"  P'raps  we  had,"  replied  Sam,  "  or  they'll  overdo  the  swarry, 
and  that'll  spile  it." 


136  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Have  you  drank  the  waters,  Mr.  Weller?"  inquired  his 
companion,  as  they  walked  towards  High  Street. 

"  Once,"  replied  Sam. 

"What  did  you  think  of 'em,  sir?'1 

"I  thought  they  wos  particklery  unpleasant,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Ah,""  said  Mr.  John  Smauker,  "  you  disliked  the  killibeate 
taste,  perhaps?" 

"I  don't  know  much  about  that  'ere,"  said  Sam.  "I 
thought  they'd  a  wery  strong  flavour  o'  warm  flat  irons." 

"That  is  the  killibeate,  Mr.  Weller,"  observed  Mr.  John 
Smauker,  contemptuously. 

"Well,  if  it  is,  it's  a  wery  inexpressive  word,  that's  all," 
said  Sam.  "  It  may  be,  but  I  ain't  much  in  the  chimical 
line  myself,  so  I  can't  say."  And  here,  to  the  great  horror 
of  Mr.  John  Smauker,  Sam  Weller  began  to  whistle. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker, 
agonized  at  the  exceedingly  ungenteel  sound,  "  Will  you  take 
my  arm?" 

"Thankee,  you're  wery  good,  but  I  won't  deprive  you  of 
it,"  replied  Sam.  "  I've  rayther  a  way  o'  puttin'  my  hands 
in  my  pockets,  if  it's  all  •  the  same  to  you."  As  Sam  said 
this,  he  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  whistled  far  louder 
than  before. 

"  This  way,"  said  his  new  friend,  apparently  much  relieved 
as  they  turned  down  a  bye  street ;  "  we  shall  soon  be  there." 

"  Shall  we  ?  "  said  Sam,  quite  unmoved  by  the  announcement 
of  his  close  vicinity  to  the  select  footmen  of  Bath. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker.  "Don't  be  alarmed,  Mr. 
Weller." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Sam. 

"You'll  see  some  very  handsome  uniforms,  Mr.  Weller," 
continued  Mr.  John  Smauker;  "and  perhaps  you'll  find  some 
of  the  gentlemen  rather  high  at  first,  you  know,  but  they'll 
soon  come  round." 

"  That's  wery  kind  on  'em,"  replied  Sam. 

"  And  you  know,"  resumed  Mr.  John  Smauker,  with  an  air 


GORGEOUS  SCENE  AT  THE  GREENGROCER'S.  137 

of  sublime  protection;  "you  know,  as  you're  a  stranger, 
perhaps  they'll  be  rather  hard  upon  you  at  first.11 

"  They  won't  be  wery  cruel,  though,  will  they  ? "  inquired 
,Sam. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  Mr.  John  Smauker,  pulling  forth  the  fox's 
head,  and  taking  a  gentlemanly  pinch.  "There  are  some 
funny  dogs  among  us,  and  they,  .will  have  their  joke,  you 
know;  but  you  mustn't  mind  'em,  you  mustn't  mind  'em." 

"  I'll  try  and  bear  up  agin  such  a  reg'lar  knock  down  o' 
talent,"  replied  Sam. 

"That's  right,"  said  Mr.  John  Smauker,  putting  up  the 
fox's  head,  and  elevating  his  own ;  "  I'll  stand  by  you." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  a  small  greengrocer's  shop, 
which  Mr.  John  Smauker  entered,  followed  by  Sam :  who, 
the  moment  he  got  behind  him,  relapsed  into  a  series  of  the 
very  broadest  and  most  unmitigated  grins,  and  manifested 
other  demonstrations  of  being  in  a  highly  enviable  state  of 
inward  merriment. 

Crossing  the  greengrocer's  shop,  and  putting  their  hats  on 
the  stairs  in  the  little  passage  behind  it,  they  walked  into  a 
small  parlour ;  and  here  the  full  splendour  of  the  scene  burst 
upon  Mr.  Weller's  view. 

A  couple  of  tables  were  put  together  in  the  middle  of  the 
parlour,  covered  with  three  or  four  cloths  of  different  ages 
and  dates  of  washing,  arranged  to  look  as  much  like  one  as 
the  circumstances  of  the  case  would  allow.  Upon  these  were 
laid  knives  and  forks  for  six  or  eight  people.  Some  of  the 
knife  handles  were  green,  others  red,  and  a  few  yellow ;  and 
as  all  the  forks  were  black,  the  combination  of  colours  was 
exceedingly  striking.  Plates  for  a  corresponding  number  of 
guests  were  warming  behind  the  fender ;  and  the  guests  them- 
selves were  warming  before  it :  the  chief  and  most  important 
of  whom  appeared  to  be  a  stoutish  gentleman  in  a  bright 
crimson  coat  with  long  tails,  vividly  red  breeches,  and  a 
cocked  hat,  who  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and 
had  apparently  just  entered,  for  besides  retaining  his  cocked 


138  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

hat  on  his  head,  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  high  stick,  such  as 
gentlemen  of  his  profession  usually  elevate  in  a  sloping  position 
over  the  roofs  of  carriages. 

"  Smauker,  my  lad,  your  fin,11  said  the  gentleman  with  the 
cocked  hat. 

Mr.  Smauker  dovetailed  the  top  joint  of  his  right  hand 
little  finger  into  that  of  the  gentleman  with  the  cocked  hat, 
and  said  he  was  charmed  to  see  him  looking  so  well. 

"  Well,  they  tell  me  I  am  looking  pretty  blooming,"  said 
the  man  with  the  cocked  hat,  "and  it's  a  wonder,  too.  I've 
been  following  our  old  woman  about,  two  hours  a-day,  for 
the  last  fortnight;  and  if  a  constant  contemplation  of  the 
manner  in  which  she  hooks-and-eyes  that  infernal  lavender 
coloured  old  gown  of  hers  behind,  isn't  enough  to  throw  any 
body  into  a  low  state  of  despondency  for  life,  stop  my 
quarter's  salary."" 

At  this,  the  assembled  selections  laughed  very  heartily; 
and  one  gentleman  in  a  yellow  waistcoat,  with  a  coach 
trimming  border,  whispered  a  neighbour  in  green  foil  smalls, 
that  Tuckle  was  in  spirits  to-night. 

"By  the  bye,"  said  Mr.  Tuckle,  "Smauker,  my  boy, 

you "  The  remainder  of  the  sentence  was  forwarded 

into  Mr.  John  Smauker's  ear,  by  whisper. 

"Oh,  dear  me,  I  quite  forgot,11  said  Mr.  John  Smauker. 
"  Gentlemen,  my  friend  Mr.  Weller.11 

"  Sorry  to  keep  the  fire  off  you,  Weller,"  said  Mr.  Tuckle, 
with  a  familiar  nod.  "  Hope  you're  not  cold,  Weller." 

"Not  by  no  means,  Blazes,"  replied  Sam.  "It  'ud  be  a 
wery  chilly  subject  as  felt  cold  wen  you  stood  opposit.  You'd 
save  coals  if  they  put  you  behind  the  fender  in  the  waitin1 
room  at  a  public  office,  you  would." 

As  this  retort  appeared  to  convey  rather  a  personal  allusion 
to  Mr.  Tuckle's  crimson  livery,  that  gentleman  looked  majestic 
for  a  few  seconds,  but  gradually  edging  away  from  the  fire, 
broke  into  a  forced  smile,  and  said  it  wasn't  bad. 

"  Wery  much  obliged  for  your  good  opinion,  sir,"  replied 


MR,  TUCKLE  IS  INDIGNANT.  139 

Sam.  "  We  shall  get  on  by  degrees,  I  des-say.  Well  try  a 
better  one,  bye-and-bye." 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  a  gentleman  in  orange-coloured  plush,  accompanied 
by  another  selection  in  purple  cloth,  with  a  great  extent  of 
stocking.  The  new  comers  having  been  welcomed  by  the 
old  ones,  Mr.  Tuckle  put  the  question  that  supper  be  ordered 
in,  which  was  carried  unanimously. 

The  greengrocer  and  his  wife  then  arranged  upon  the  table 
a  boiled  leg  of  mutton,  hot,  with  caper  sauce,  turnips,  and 
potatoes.  Mr.  Tuckle  took  the  chair,  and  was  supported  at 
the  other  end  of  the  board  by  the  gentleman  in  orange  plush. 
The  greengrocer  put  on  a  pair  of  wash-leather  gloves  to  hand 
the  plates  with,  and  stationed  himself  behind  Mr.  Tuckle's 
chair. 

"  Harris,11  said  Mr.  Tuckle,  in  a  commanding  tone. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  greengrocer. 

"Have  you  got  your  gloves  on?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  take  the  kiver,  off." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  greengrocer  did  as  he  was  told,  with  a  show  of  great 
humility,  and  obsequiously  handed  Mr.  Tuckle  the  carving 
knife;  in  doing  which,  he  accidentally  gaped. 

u  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir  ? "  said  Mr.  Tuckle,  with 
great  asperity. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  replied  the  crest-fallen  greengrocer, 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it,  sir ;  I  was  up  very  late  last  night, 
sir." 

"  I  tell  you  what  my  opinion  of  you  is,  Harris,"  said  Mr. 
Tuckle  with  a  most  impressive  air,  "  you're  a  wulgar  beast." 

"I  hope,  gentlemen,"  said  Harris,  "that  you  won't  be 
severe  with  me,  gentlemen.  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you 
indeed,  gentlemen,  for  your  patronage,  and  also  for  your 
recommendations,  gentlemen,  whenever  additional  assistance 
in  waiting  is  required.  I  hope,  gentlemen,  I  give  satisfaction." 


140  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"No,  you  don't,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tuckle.  "Very  far  from  it, 
sir." 

"  We  consider  you  an  inattentive  reskel,"  said  the  gentleman 
in  the  orange  plush. 

"And  a  low  thief,"  added  the  gentleman  in  the  green-foil 
smalls. 

"And  an  unreclaimable  blaygaird,"  added  the  gentleman 
in  purple. 

The  poor  greengrocer  bowed  very  humbly  while  these 
little  epithets  were  bestowed  upon  him,  in  the  true  spirit  of 
the  very  smallest  tyranny ;  and  when  every  body  had  said 
something  to  show  his  superiority,  Mr.  Tuckle  proceeded  to 
carve  the  leg  of  mutton,  and  to  help  the  company. 

This  important  business  of  the  evening  had  hardly  com- 
menced, when  the  door  was  thrown  briskly  open,  and  another 
gentleman  in  a  light-blue  suit,  and  leaden  buttons,  made  his 
appearance. 

"Against  the  rules,11  said  Mr.  Tuckle.  "Too  late,  too 
late." 

"  No,  no ;  positively  I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  the  gentleman 
in  blue.  "  I  appeal  to  the  company.  An  affair  of  gallantry 
now,  an  appointment  at  the  theayter." 

"  Oh,  that  indeed,11  said  the  gentleman  in  the  orange  plush. 

"Yes;  raly  now,  honour  bright,"  said  the  man  in  blue. 
"  I  made  a  promese  to  fetch  our  youngest  daughter  at  half- 
past  ten,  and  she  is  such  an  uncauminly  fine  gal,  that  I  raly 
hadn't  the  art  to  disappint  her.  No  offence  to  the  present 
company,  sir,  but  a  petticut,  sir,  a  petticut,  sir,  is  irrevokeable." 

"I  begin  to  suspect  there's  something  in  that  quarter," 
said  Tuckle,  as  the  new  comer  took  his  seat  next  Sam. 
"I've  remarked,  once  or  twice,  that  she  leans  very  heavy  on 
your  shoulder  when  she  gets  in  and  out  of  the  carriage." 

"  Oh  raly,  raly,  Tuckle,  you  shouldn't,"  said  the  man  in 
blue.  "  It's  not  fair.  I  may  have  said  to  one  or  two  friends 
that  she  was  .a  very  divine  creechure,  and  had  refused  one 
or  two  offers  without  any  hobvus  cause,  but — no,  no,  no, 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLUE.  141 

indeed,  Tuckle — before  strangers,  too — it's  not  right — you 
shouldn't.  Delicacy,  my  dear  friend,  delicacy !"  And  the 
man  in  blue,  pulling  up  his  neckerchief,  and  adjusting  his 
coat  cuffs,  nodded  and  frowned  as  if  there  were  more  behind, 
which  he  could  say  if  he  liked,  but  was  bound  in  honour  to 
suppress. 

The  man  in  blue  being  a  light-haired,  stiff-necked,  free 
and  easy  sort  of  footman,  with  a  swaggering  air  and  pert 
face,  had  attracted  Mr.  Welle^s  especial  attention  at  first, 
but  when  he  began  to  come  out  in  this  way,  Sam  felt  more 
than  ever  disposed  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance;  so  he 
launched  himself  into  the  conversation  at  once,  with  charac- 
teristic independence. 

"Your  health,  sir,"  said  Sam.  "I  like  your  conwersation 
much.  I  think  it's  wery  pretty.11 

At  this  the  man  in  blue  smiled,  as  if  it  were  a  compliment 
he  was  well  used  to ;  but  looked  approvingly  on  Sam  at  the 
same  time,  and  said  he  hoped  he  should  be  better  acquainted 
with  him,  for  without  any  flattery  at  all  he  seemed  to  have 
the  makings  of  a  very  nice  fellow  about  him,  and  to  be  just 
the  man  after  his  own  heart. 

"  You're  wery  good,  sir,11  said  Sam.  "  What  a  lucky  feller 
you  are ! " 

"  How  do  you  mean  ? "  inquired  the  gentleman  in  blue. 

"That  'ere  young  lady,"  replied  Sam.  "She  knows  wofs 
wot,  she  does.  Ah !  I  see."  Mr.  Weller  closed  one  eye,  and 
shook  his  head  from  side  to  side,  in  a  manner  which  was  highly 
gratifying  to  the  personal  vanity  of  the  gentleman  in  blue. 

"I'm  afraid  you're  a  cunning  fellow,  Mr.  Weller,"  said 
that  individual. 

"No,  no,"  said  Sam.  "I  leave  all  that  ""ere  to  you.  It's 
a  great  deal  more  in  your  way  than  mine,  as  the  gen'lm'n 
on  the  right  side  o1  the  garden  vail  said  to  the  man  on  the 
wrong  'un,  ven  the  mad  bull  wos  a  comin1  up  the  lane." 

"Well,  well,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  the  gentleman  in  blue,  "I 
think  she  has  remarked  my  air  and  manner,  Mr.  Weller." 


142  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"I  should  think  she  couldn't  wery  well  be  off  o'  that," 
said  Sam. 

"Have  you  any  little  thing  of  that  kind  in  hand,  sir?11 
inquired  the  favoured  gentleman  in  blue,  drawing  a  toothpick 
from  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Sam.  "There's  no  daughters  at  my 
place,  else  o1  course  I  should  ha1  made  up  to  vun  on  'em. 
As  it  is,  I  don't  think  •  I  can  do  with  any  thin1  under  a 
female  markis.  I  might  take  up  with  a  young  ooman  o' 
large  property  as  hadn't  a  title,  if  she  made  wery  fierce  love 
to  me.  Not  else." 

"Of  course  not,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  the  gentleman  in  blue, 
"  one  can't  be  troubled,  you  know ;  and  we  know,  Mr. 
Weller — we,  who  are  men  of  the  world — that  a  good  uniform 
must  work  its  way  with  the  women,  sooner  or  later.  In 
fact,  that's  the  only  thing,  between  you  and  me,  that  makes 
the  service  worth  entering  into." 

"Just  so,"  said  Sam.     "That's  it,  o1  course." 

When  this  confidential  dialogue  had  gone  thus  far,  glasses 
were  placed  round,  and  every  gentleman  ordered  what  he 
liked  best,  before  the  public-house  shut  up.  The  gentleman 
in  blue,  and  the  man  in  orange,  who  were  the  chief  exquisites 
of  the  party,  ordered  "cold  srub  and  water,"  but  with  the 
others,  gin  and  water,  sweet,  appeared  to  be  the  favourite 
beverage.  Sam  called  the  greengrocer  a  "desp'rate  willin," 
and  ordered  a  large  bowl  of  punch ;  two  circumstances  which 
seemed  to  raise  him  very  much  in  the  opinion  of  the 
selections. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  man  in  blue,  with  an  air  of  the 
most  consummate  dandyism,  "  I'll  give  you  the  ladies ;  come." 

"  Hear,  hear ! "  said  Sam,  "  The  young  mississes." 

Here  there  was  a  loud  cry  of  "Order,"  and  Mr.  John 
Smauker,  as  the  gentleman  who  had  introduced  Mr.  Weller 
into  that  company,  begged  to  inform  him  that  the  word  he 
had  just  made  use  of,  was  unparliamentary. 

"Which  word  was  that  'ere,  sir?"  inquired  Sam, 


AN  AFFLICTING  CIRCUMSTANCE.  143 

"Mississes,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  John  Smauker,  with  an 
alarming  frown.  "  We  don't  recognise  such  distinctions  here."" 

"  Oh,  wery  good,"  said  Sam ;  "  then  Til  amend  the  obserwa- 
tion,  and  call  ""em  the  dear  creeturs,  if  Blazes  vill  allow  me." 

Some  doubt  appeared  to  exist  in  the  mind  of  the  gentle- 
man in  the  green-foil  smalls,  whether  the  chairman  could 
be  legally  appealed  to,  as  "Blazes,"  but  as  the  company 
seemed  more  disposed  to  stand  upon  their  own  rights  than 
his,  the  question  was  not  raised.  The  man  with  the  cocked 
hat,  breathed  short,  and  looked  long  at  Sam,  but  apparently 
thought  it  as  well  to  say  nothing,  in  case  he  should  get  the 
worst  of  it. 

After  a  short  silence,  a  gentleman  in  an  embroidered  coat 
reaching  down  to  his  heels,  and  a  waistcoat  of  the  same 
which  kept  one  half  of  his  legs  warm,  stirred  his  gin  and 
water  with  great  energy,  and  putting  himself  upon  his  feet, 
all  at  once,  by  a  violent  effort,  said  he  was  desirous  of  offer- 
ing a  few  remarks  to  the  company :  whereupon  the  person 
in  the  cocked  hat,  had  no  doubt  that  the  company  would 
be  very  happy  to  hear  any  remarks  that  the  man  in  the  long 
coat  might  wish  to  offer. 

"I  feel  a  great  delicacy,  gentlemen,  in  coming  forward," 
said  the  man  in  the  long  coat,  "  having  the  misforchune  to 
be  a  coachman,  and  being  only  admitted  as  a  honorary 
member  of  these  agreeable  swarrys,  but  I  do  feel  myself 
bound,  gentlemen — drove  into  a  corner,  if  I  may  use  the 
expression — to  make  known  an  afflicting  circumstance  which 
has  come  to  my  knowledge ;  which  has  happened  I  may  say 
within  the  soap  of  my  every  day  contemplation.  Gentlemen, 
our  friend  Mr.  Whiffers  (everybody  looked  at  the  individual 
in  orange),  our  friend  Mr.  Whiffers  has  resigned." 

Universal  astonishment  fell  upon  the  hearers.  Each  gentle- 
man looked  in  his  neighbour's  face,  and  then  transferred  his 
glance  to  the  upstanding  coachman. 

"  You  may  well  be  sapparised,  gentlemen,"  said  the  coach- 
man. "I  will  not  wenchure  to  state  the  reasons  of  this 


144  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

irrepairabel  loss  to  the  service,  but  I  will  beg  Mr.  Whiffers 
to  state  them  himself,  for  the  improvement  and  imitation  of 
his  admiring  friends." 

The  suggestion  being  loudly  approved  of,  Mr.  Whiifers 
explained.  He  said  he  certainly  could  have  wished  to  have 
continued  to  hold  the  appointment  he  had  just  resigned. 
The  uniform  was  extremely  rich  and  expensive,  the  females 
of  the  family  was  most  agreeable,  and  the  duties  of  the 
situation  was  not,  he  was  bound  to  say,  too  heavy;  the 
principal  service  that  was  required  of  him,  being,  that  he 
should  look  out  of  the  hall  window  as  much  as  possible,  in 
company  with  another  gentleman,  who  had  also  resigned. 
He  could  have  wished  to  have  spared  that  company  the 
painful  and  disgusting  detail  on  which  he  was  about  to 
enter,  but  as  the  explanation  had  been  demanded  of  him, 
he  had  no  alternative  but  to  state,  boldly  and  distinctly, 
that  he  had  been  required  to  eat  cold  meat. 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  disgust  which  this  avowal 
awakened  in  the  bosoms  of  the  hearers.  Loud  cries  of 
"  Shame ! "  mingled  with  groans  and  hisses,  prevailed  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour. 

Mr.  Whiffers  then  added  that  he  feared  a  portion  of  this 
outrage  might  be  traced  to  his  own  forbearing  and  accom- 
modating disposition.  He  had  a  distinct  recollection  of  having 
once  consented  to  eat  salt  butter,  and  he  had,  moreover,  on 
an  occasion  of  sudden  sickness  in  the  house,  so  far  forgotten 
himself  as  to  carry  a  coal  scuttle  up  to  the  second  floor.  He 
trusted  he  had  not  lowered  himself  in  the  good  opinion  of 
his  friends  by  this  frank  confession  of  his  faults;  and  he 
hoped  the  promptness  with  which  he  had  resented  the  last 
unmanly  outrage  on  his  feelings,  to  which  he  had  referred, 
would  reinstate  him  in  their  good  opinion,  if  he  had. 

Mr.  Whiffers"1  address  was  responded  to,  with  a  shout  of 
admiration,  and  the  health  of  the  interesting  martyr  was 
drunk  in  a  most  enthusiastic  manner;  for  this,  the  martyr 
returned  thanks,  and  proposed  their  visitor,  Mr.  Weller;  a 


SAM  MAKES  A  NEAT  SPEECH.  145 

gentleman  whom  he  had  not  the  pleasure  of  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with,  but  who  was  the  friend  of  Mr.  John 
Smauker?  which  was  a  sufficient  letter  of  recommendation  to 
any  society  of  gentlemen  whatever,  or  wherever.  On  this 
account,  he  should  have  been  disposed  to  have  given  Mr. 
Weller's  health  with  all  the  honours,  if  his  friends  had  been 
drinking  wine ;  but  as  they  were  taking  spirits  by  way  of 
a  change,  and  as  it  might  be  inconvenient  to  empty  a  tumbler 
at  every  toast,  he  should  propose  that  the  honours  be  under- 
stood. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  speech,  everybody  took  a  sip  in 
honour  of  Sam ;  and  Sam  having  ladled  out,  and  drunk,  two 
full  glasses  of  punch  in  honour  of  himself,  returned  thanks  in 
a  neat  speech. 

"  Wery  much  obliged  to  you,  old  fellers,11  said  Sam,  ladling 
away  at  the  punch  in  the  most  unembarrassed  manner  possible, 
"  for  this  here  compliment ;  wich,  comin'  from  sich  a  quarter, 
is  wery  overvelmin'.  I've  heerd  a  good  deal  on  you  as  a 
body,  but  I  will  say,  that  I  never  thought  you  was  sich 
uncommon  nice  men  as  I  find  you  air.  I  only  hope  you'll 
take  care  o1  yourselves,  and  not  compromise  nothin'  o'  your 
dignity,  which  is  a  wery  charmin'  thing  to  see,  when  one's 
out  a  walkin',  and  has  always  made  me  wery  happy  to  look 
at,  ever  since  I  was  a  boy  about  half  as  high  as  the  brass- 
headed  stick  o1  my  wery  respectable  friend,  Blazes,  there. 
As  to  the  wictim  of  oppression  in  the  suit  o1  brimstone,  all 
I  can  say  of  him,  is,  that  I  hope  he'll  get  jist  as  good  a 
berth  as  he  deserves :  in  vich  case  it's  wery  little  cold  swarry 
as  ever  he'll  be  troubled  with  agin.11 

Here  Sam  sat  down  with  a  pleasant  smile,  and  his  speech 
having  been  vociferously  applauded,  the  company  broke  up. 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you're  a  goin',  old  feller  ? " 
said  Sam  Weller  to  his  friend  Mr.  John  Smauker. 

"  I  must  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Smauker ;  "  I  promised  Bantam." 

"  Oh,  wery  well,"  said  Sam ;  "  that's  another  thing.  P'raps 
he'd  resign  if  you  disappinted  him.  You  ain't  a  goin',  Blazes  ?  " 


146  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  said  the  man  with  the  cocked  hat. 

"  Wot,  and  leave  three  quarters  of  a  bowl  of  punch  behind 
you ! "  said  Sam ;  "  nonsense,  set  down  agin." 

Mr.  Tuckle  was  not  proof  against  this  invitation.  He 
laid  aside  the  cocked  hat  and  stick  which  he  had  just  taken 
up,  and  said  he  would  have  one  glass,  for  good  fellowship's 
sake. 

As  the  gentleman  in  blue  went  home  the  same  way  as  Mr. 
Tuckle,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  stop  too.  When  the  punch 
was  about  half  gone,  Sam  ordered  in  some  oysters  from  the 
greengrocer's  shop ;  and  the  effect  of  both  was  so  extremely 
exhilarating,  that  Mr.  Tuckle,  dressed  out  with  the  cocked 
hat  and  stick,  danced  the  frog  hornpipe  among  the  shells  on 
the  table :  while  the  gentleman  in  blue  played  an  accompani- 
ment upon  an  ingenious  musical  instrument  formed  of  a  hair 
comb  and  a  curl-paper.  At  last,  when  the  punch  was  all 
gone,  and  the  night  nearly  so,  they  sallied  forth  to  see  each 
other  home.  Mr.  Tuckle  no  sooner  got  into  the  open  air, 
than  he  was  seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to  lie  on  the  curb- 
stone; Sam  thought  it  would  be  a  pity  to  contradict  him, 
and  so  let  him  have  his  own  way.  As  the  cocked  hat  would 
have  been  spoilt  if  left  there,  Sam  very  considerately  flattened 
it  down  on  the  head  of  the  gentleman  in  blue,  and  putting 
the  big  stick  in  his  hand,  propped  him  up  against  his  own 
street-door,  rang  the  bell,  and  walked  quietly  home. 

At  a  much  earlier  hour  next  morning  than  his  usual  time 
of  rising,  Mr.  Pickwick  walked  down  stairs  completely  dressed, 
and  rang  the  bell. 

"Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  when  Mr.  Weller  appeared  in 
reply  to  the  summons,  "shut  the  door." 

Mr.  Weller  did  so. 

"There  was  an  unfortunate  occurrence  here,  last  night, 
Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  which  gave  Mr.  Winkle  some  cause 
to  apprehend  violence  from  Mr.  Dowler." 

"So  I've  heerd  from  the  old  lady  down  stairs,  sir,15  replied 
Sam. 


A  DELICATE   MISSION.  147 

"  And  I'm  sorry  to  say,  Sam,"  continued  Mr.  Pickwick,  with 
a  most  perplexed  countenance,  "  that  in  dread  of  this  violence, 
Mr.  Winkle  has  gone  away." 

"  Gone  avay  ! "  said  Sam. 

"  Left  the  house  early  this  morning,  without  the  slightest 
previous  communication  with  me,1'  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  And  is  gone,  I  know  not  where." 

"  He  should  ha'  stopped  and  fought  it  out,  sir,"  replied  Sam, 
contemptuously.  "  It  wouldn't  take  much  to  settle  that  'ere 
Dowler,  sir." 

"  Well,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  may  have  my  doubts 
of  his  great  bravery  and  determination,  also.  But  however 
that  may  be,  Mr.  Winkle  is  gone.  He  must  be  found,  Sam. 
Found  and  brought  back  to  me." 

"  And  s'pose  he  won't  come  back,  sir  ? "  said  Sam. 

"  He  must  be  made,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Who's  to  do  it,  sir  ? "  inquired  Sam  with  a  smile. 

"You,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Wery  good,  sir." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Weller  left  the  room,  and  immediately 
afterwards  was  heard  to  shut  the  street  door.  In  two  hours' 
time  he  returned  with  as  much  coolness  as  if  he  had  been 
despatched  on  the  most  ordinary  message  possible,  and  brought 
the  information  that  an  individual,  in  every  respect  answering 
Mr.  Winkle's  description,  had  gone  over  to  Bristol  that 
morning,  by  the  branch  coach  from  the  Royal  Hotel. 

"  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  grasping  his  hand,  "  you're  a 
capital  fellow ;  an  invaluable  fellow.  You  must  follow  him, 
Sam." 

"Cert'nly,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"The  instant  you  discover  him,  write  to  me  immediately, 
Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "If  he  attempts  to  run  away 
from  you,  knock  him  down,  or  lock  him  up.  You  have  my 
full  authority,  Sam." 

"  I'll  be  wery  careful,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam. 

"You'll  tell  him,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "that  I  am  highly 


148  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

excited,  highly  displeased,  and  naturally  indignant,  at  the 
very  extraordinary  course  he  has  thought  proper  to  pursue.11 

"I  will,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"  You1!!  tell  him,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "that  if  he  does  not 
come  back  to  this  very  house,  with  you,  he  will  come  back 
with  me,  for  I  will  come  and  fetch  him.11 

"Til  mention  that  ""ere,  sir,11  rejoined  Sam. 

"You  think  you  can  find  him,  Sam?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
looking  earnestly  in  his  face. 

"Oh,  Fll  find  him  if  he's  any  vere,"  rejoined  Sam,  with 
great  confidence. 

"Very  well,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Then  the  sooner  you 
go  the  better.11 

With  these  instructions,  Mr.  Pickwick  placed  a  sum  of 
money  in  the  hands  of  his  faithful  servitor,  and  ordered  him 
to  start  for  Bristol  immediately,  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive. 

Sam  put  a  few  necessaries  in  a  carpet  bag,  and  was  ready 
for  starting.  He  stopped  when  he  had  got  to  the  end  of  the 
passage,  and  walking  quietly  back,  thrust  his  head  in  at  the 
parlour  door. 

"  Sir,11  whispered  Sam. 

"  Well,  Sam,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"I  fully  understands  my  instructions,  do  I,  sir?11  inquired 
Sam. 

"I  hope  so,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  It's  reg'larly  understood  about  the  knockin1  down,  is  it, 
sir?11  inquired  Sam. 

"Perfectly,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Thoroughly.  Do 
what  you  think  necessary.  You  have  my  orders.11 

Sam  gave  a  nod  of  intelligence,  and  withdrawing  his  head 
from  the  door,  set  forth  on  his  pilgrimage  with  a  light  heart. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

HOW    MR.    WINKLE,    WHEN    HE    STEPPED    OUT    OF    THE    FRYING-PAN, 
WALKED   GENTLY   AND   COMFORTABLY   INTO   THE   FIRE. 

THE  ill-starred  gentleman  who  had  been  the  unfortunate  cause 
of  the  unusual  noise  and  disturbance  which  alarmed  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Royal  Crescent  in  manner  and  form  already 
described,  after  passing  a  night  of  great  confusion  and  anxiety, 
left  the  roof  beneath  which  his  friends  still  slumbered,  bound 
he  knew  not  whither.  The  excellent  and  considerate  feelings 
which  prompted  Mr.  Winkle  to  take  this  step  can  never  be 
too  highly  appreciated  or  too  warmly  extolled.  "  If,1'  reasoned 
Mr.  Winkle  with  himself,  "  if  this  Dowler  attempts  (as  I  have 
no  doubt  he  will)  to  carry  into  execution  his  threat  of 
personal  violence  against  myself,  it  will  be  incumbent  on  me 
to  call  him  out.  He  has  a  wife;  that  wife  is  attached  to, 
and  dependent  on  him.  Heavens!  If  I  should  kill  him  in 
the  blindness  of  my  wrath,  what  would  be  my  feelings  ever 
afterwards  ! "  This  painful  consideration  operated  so  power- 
fully on  the  feelings  of  the  humane  young  man,  as  to  cause 
his  knees  to  knock  together,  and  his  countenance  to  exhibit 
alarming  manifestations  of  inward  emotion.  Impelled  by 
such  reflections,  he  grasped  his  carpet-bag,  and  creeping 
stealthily  down  stairs,  shut  the  detestable  street-door  with  as 
little  noise  as  possible,  and  walked  off.  Bending  his  steps 
towards  the  Royal  Hotel,  he  found  a  coach  on  the  point  of 
starting  for  Bristol,  and,  thinking  Bristol  as  good  a  place  for 


150  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

his  purpose  as  any  other  he  could  go  to,  he  mounted  the 
box,  and  reached  his  place  of  destination  in  such  time  as  the 
pair  of  horses,  who  went  the  whole  stage  and  back  again 
twice  a  day  or  more,  could  be  reasonably  supposed  to  arrive 
there. 

He  took  up  his  quarters  at  The  Bush,  and,  designing  to 
postpone  any  communication  by  letter  with  Mr.  Pickwick 
until  it  was  probable  that  Mr.  Bowler's  wrath  might  have  in 
some  degree  evaporated,  walked  forth  to  view  the  city,  which 
struck  him  as  being  a  shade  more  dirty  than  any  place  he 
had  ever  seen.  Having  inspected  the  docks  and  shipping, 
and  viewed  the  cathedral/  he  inquired  his  way  to  Clifton, 
and  being  directed  thither,  took  the  route  which  was  pointed 
out  to  him.  But,  as  the  pavements  of  Bristol  are  not  the 
widest  or  cleanest  upon  earth,  so  its  streets  are  not  altogether 
the  straightest  or  least  intricate ;  Mr.  Winkle  being  greatly 
puzzled  by  their  manifold  windings  and  twistings,  looked 
about  him  for  a  decent  shop  in  which  he  could  apply  afresh, 
for  counsel  and  instruction. 

His  eye  fell  upon  a  newly-painted  tenement  which  had 
been  recently  converted  into  something  between  a  shop  and 
a  private-house,  and  which  a  red  lamp,  projecting  over  the 
fan-light  of  the  street-door,  would  have  sufficiently  announced 
as  the  residence  of  a  medical  practitioner,  even  if  the  word 
"Surgery11  had  not  been  inscribed  in  golden  characters  on  a 
wainscot  ground,  above  the  window  of  what,  in  times  bygone, 
had  been  the  front  parlour.  Thinking  this  an  eligible  place 
wherein  to  make  his  inquiries,  Mr.  Winkle  stepped  into  the 
little  shop  where  the  gilt-labelled  drawers  and  bottles  were; 
and  finding  nobody  there,  knocked  with  a  half-crown  on  the 
counter,  to  attract  the  attention  of  anybody  who  might 
happen  to  be  in  the  back  parlour,  which  he  judged  to  be 
the  innermost  and  peculiar  sanctum  of  the  establishment, 
from  the  repetition  of  the  word  surgery  on  the  door — 
painted  in  white  letters  this  time,  by  way  of  taking  off  the 
monotony. 


DISCOVERY  OF  A  MEDICAL  GENTLEMAN.   151 

At  the  first  knock,  a  sound,  as  of  persons  fencing  with  fire- 
irons,  which  had  until  now  been  very  audible,  suddenly  ceased ; 
at  the  second,  a  studious-looking  young  gentleman  in  green 
(spectacles,  with  a  very  large  book  in  his  hand,  glided  quietly 
into  the  shop,  and  stepping  behind  the  counter,  requested 
to  know  the  visitor's  pleasure. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  "  but 
will  you  have  the  goodness  to  direct  rne  to " 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha ! "  roared  the  studious  young  gentleman, 
throwing  the  large  book  up  into  the  air,  and  catching  it 
with  great  dexterity  at  the  very  moment  when  it  threatened 
to  smash  to  atoms  all  the  bottles  on  the  counter.  "Here's 
a  start ! " 

There  was,  without  doubt;  for  Mr.  Winkle  was  so  very 
much  astonished  at  the  extraordinary  behaviour  of  the  medical 
gentleman,  that  he  involuntarily  retreated  towards  the  door, 
and  looked  very  much  disturbed  at  his  strange  reception. 

"What,  don't  you  know  me?"  said  the  medical  gentleman. 

Mr.  Winkle  murmured,  in  reply,  that  he  had  not  that 
pleasure. 

"  Why,  then,"  said  the  medical  gentleman,  "  there  are  hopes 
for  me  yet;  I  may  attend  half  the  old  women  in  Bristol  if 
I've  decent  luck.  Get  out,  you  mouldy  old  villain,  get  out ! " 
With  this  adjuration,  which  was  addressed  to  the  large 
book,  the  medical  gentleman  kicked  the  volume  with  remark- 
able agility  to  the  further  end  of  the  shop,  and,  pulling  off 
his  green  spectacles,  grinned  the  identical  grin  of  Robert 
Sawyer,  Esquire,  formerly  of  Guy's  Hospital  in  the  Borough, 
with  a  private  residence  in  Lant  Street 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  weren't  down  upon  me  ! "  said 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  shaking  Mr.  Winkle's  hand  with  friendly 
warmth. 

"  Upon  my  word  I  was  not,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  returning 
the  pressure. 

"I  wonder  you  didn't  see  the  name,"  said  Bob  Sawyer, 
calling  his  friend's  attention  to  the  outer  door,  on  which,  in 


152  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  same  white  paint,  were  traced  the  words  "  Sawyer,  late 
Nockemorf." 

"It  never  caught  my  eye,"  returned  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  Lord,  if  I  had  known  who  you  were,  I  should  have  rushed 
out,  and  caught  you  in  my  arms,11  said  Bob  Sawyer ;  "  but 
upon  my  life,  I  thought  you  were  the  KingVtaxes.''1 

«  No!  "said  Mr.  Winkle. 

"I  did,  indeed,"  responded  Bob  Sawyer,  "and  I  was  just 
going  to  say  that  I  wasn't  at  home,  but  if  you'd  leave  a 
message  I'd  be  sure  to  give  it  to  myself;  for  he  don't  know 
me ;  no  more  does  the  Lighting  and  Paving.  I  think  the 
Church-rates  guesses  who  I  am,  and  I  know  the  Water-works 
does,  because  I  drew  a  tooth  of  his  when  I  first  came  down 
here.  But  come  in,  come  in  ! "  Chattering  in  this  way,  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  pushed  Mr.  Winkle  into  the  back  room,  where, 
amusing  himself  by  boring  little  circular  caverns  in  the 
chimney-piece  with  a  red-hot  poker,  sat  no  less  a  person  than 
Mr.  Benjamin  Allen. 

"Well!"  said  Mr.  Winkle.  "This  is  indeed  a  pleasure 
I  did  not  expect.  What  a  very  nice  place  you  have  here ! " 

"  Pretty  well,  pretty  well,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer.  "  I  passed, 
soon  after  that  precious  party,  and  my  friends  came  down 
with  the  needful  for  this  business;  so  I  put  on  a  black  suit 
of  clothes,  and  a  pair  of  spectacles,  and  came  here  to  look 
as  solemn  as  I  could.1" 

"And  a  very  snug  little  business  you  have,  no  doubt?11 
said  Mr.  Winkle,  knowingly. 

"Very,11  replied  Bob  Sawyer.  "So  snug,  that  at  the  end 
of  a  few  years  you  might  put  all  the  profits  in  a  wine  glass, 
and  cover  'em  over  with  a  gooseberry  leaf.11 

"  You  cannot  surely  mean  that  ?  "  said  Mr.  Winkle.  "  The 
stock  itself—11 

"Dummies,  my  dear  boy,11  said  Bob  Sawyer;  "half  the 
drawers  have  nothing  in  'em,  and  the  other  half  don't  open." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  Mr.  Winkle. 

"Fact — honor!"  returned  Bob  Sawyer,  stepping  out  into 


MEDICAL  MYSTERIES.  153 

the  shop,  and  demonstrating  the  veracity  of  the  assertion  by 
divers  hard  pulls  at  the  little  gilt  knobs  on  the  counterfeit 
drawers.  "  Hardly  anything  real  in  the  shop  but  the  leeches, 
and  they  are  second-hand.1' 

"I  shouldn't  have  thought  it!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Winkle, 
much  surprised. 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer,  "  else  where's  the  use 
of  appearances,  eh?  But  what  will  you  take?  Do  as  we 
do?  That's  right.  Ben,  my  fine  fellow,  put  your  hand  into 
the  cupboard,  and  bring  out  the  patent  digester." 

Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  smiled  his  readiness,  and  produced 
from  the  closet  at  his  elbow  a  black  bottle  half  full  of 
brandy. 

"  You  don't  take  water,  of  course  ?  "  said  Bob  Sawyer. 
"Thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle.     "It's  rather  early..    I 
should  like  to  qualify  it,  if  you  have  no  objection." 

"None  in  the  least,  if  you  can  reconcile  it  to  your  con- 
science," replied  Bob  Sawyer ;  tossing  off,  as  he  spoke,  a  glass 
of  the  liquor  with  great  relish.  "  Ben,  the  pipkin  ! " 

Mr.   Benjamin   Allen   drew  forth,  from  the  same  hiding- 
place,  a  small  brass  pipkin,  which  Bob  Sawyer  observed  he 
prided  himself  upon,  particularly  because  it  looked  so  business- 
like.     The    water   in   the  professional    pipkin    having    been 
made  to  boil,  in  course  of  time,  by  various  little  shovelsfull 
of  coal,   which  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  took  out  of  a  practicable 
window-seat,  labelled  "  Soda  Water,"  Mr.  Winkle  adulterated 
his    brandy ;    and   the    conversation    was    becoming   general, 
when   it   was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  into  the  shop  of 
a  boy,  in  a  sober  grey  livery  and  a  gold-laced  hat,  with  a 
small  covered  basket  under  his  arm :  whom  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
immediately  hailed  with,  "Tom,  you  vagabond,  come  here." 
The  boy  presented  himself  accordingly. 
"You've  been   stopping  to  over  all  the  posts  in  Bristol, 
you  idle  young  scamp ! "  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 
"  No,  sir,  I  haven't,"  replied  the  boy. 
"You    had    better    not!"    said    Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  with  a 


154  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

threatening  aspect.  "  Who  do  you  suppose  will  ever  employ 
a  professional  man,  when  they  see  his  boy  playing  at  marbles 
in  the  gutter,  or  flying  the  garter  in  the  horse-road  ?  Have 
you  no  feeling  for  your  profession,  you  groveller?  Did  you 
leave  all  the  medicine?" 

"  Yes,  sir.11 

"The  powders  for  the  child,  at  the  large  house  with  the 
new  family,  and  the  pills  to  be  taken  four  times  a  day  at 
the  ill-tempered  old  gentleman's  with  the  gouty  leg?" 

"Yes,  sir.11 

"Then  shut  the  door,  and  mind  the  shop.11 

"Come,11  said  Mr.  Winkle,  as  the  boy  retired,  "things  are 
not  quite  so  bad  as  you  would  have  me  believe,  either. 
There  is  some  medicine  to  be  sent  out.11 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  peeped  into  the  shop  to  see  that  no 
stranger  was  within  hearing,  and  leaning  forward  to  Mr, 
Winkle,  said,  in  a  low  tone : 

"He  leaves  it  all  at  the  wrong  houses." 

Mr.  Winkle  looked  perplexed,  and  Bob  Sawyer  and  his 
friend  laughed. 

"Don't  you  see?"  said  Bob.  "He  goes  up  to  a  house, 
rings  the  area  bell,  pokes  a  packet  of  medicine  without  a 
direction  into  the  servant's  hand,  and  walks  off.  Servant 
takes  it  into  the  dining-parlour ;  master  opens  it,  and  reads 
the  label :  '  Draught  to  be  taken  at  bed-time — pills  as  before 
— lotion  as  usual — the  powder.  From  Sawyer's,  late  Nockem- 
orfs.  Physicians1  prescriptions  carefully  prepared,1  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  Shows  it  to  his  wife — she  reads  the  label ;  it 
goes  down  to  the  servants — they  read  the  label.  Next  day, 
boy  calls:  'Very  sorry — his  mistake — immense  business — 
great  many  parcels  to  deliver — Mr.  Sawyer's  compliments — 
late  Nockemorf.1  The  name  gets  known,  and  that's  the 
thing,  my  boy,  in  the  medical  way.  Bless  your  heart,  old 
fellow,  ifs  better  than  all  the  advertising  in  the  world.  We 
have  got  one  four-ounce  bottle  that's  been  to  half  the  houses 
in  Bristol,  and  hasn't  done  yet." 


MR.  BENJAMIN   ALLEN.  155 

"  Dear  me,  I  see,"  observed  Mr.  Winkle ;  "  what  an  excellent 
plan ! " 

"  Oh,  Ben  and  I  have  hit  upon  a  dozen  such,"  replied  Bob 
Sawyer,  with  great  glee.  "  The  lamplighter  has  eighteenpence 
a  week  to  pull  the  night-bell  for  ten  minutes  every  time  he 
comes  round;  and  my  boy  always  rushes  into  church,  just 
before  the  psalms,  when  the  people  have  got  nothing  to  do 
but  look  about  'em,  and  calls  me  out,  with  horror  and  dismay 
depicted  on  his  countenance.  'Bless  my  soul,1  everybody 
says,  '  somebody  taken  suddenly  ill !  Sawyer,  late  Nockemorf, 
sent  for.  What  a  business  that  young  man  has  ! ' " 

At  the  termination  of  this  disclosure  of  some  of  the 
mysteries  of  medicine,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  and  his  friend,  Ben 
Allen,  threw  themselves  back  in  their  respective  chairs,  and 
laughed  boisterously.  When  they  had  enjoyed  the  joke  to 
their  hearts1  content,  the  discourse  changed  to  topics  in 
which  Mr.  Winkle  was  more  immediately  interested. 

We  think  we  have  hinted  elsewhere,  that  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen  had  a  way  of  becoming  sentimental  after  brandy.  The 
case  is  not  a  peculiar  one,  as  we  ourself  can  testify :  having, 
on  a  few  occasions,  had  to  deal  with  patients  who  have  been 
afflicted  in  a  similar  manner.  At  this  precise  period  of  his 
existence,  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  had  perhaps  a  greater  predisposi- 
tion to  maudlinism  than  he  had  ever  known  before;  the 
cause  of  which  malady  was  briefly  this.  He  had  been  staying 
nearly  three  weeks  with  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer;  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
was  not  remarkable  for  temperance,  nor  was  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen  for  the  ownership  of  a  very  strong  head ;  the  conse- 
quence was,  that,  during  the  whole  space  of  time  just 
mentioned,  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  had  been  wavering  between 
intoxication  partial,  and  intoxication  complete. 

"My  dear  friend,11  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  taking  advantage 
of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  temporary  absence  behind  the  counter, 
whither  he  had  retired  to  dispense  some  of  the  second-hand 
leeches,  previously  referred  to :  "  my  dear  friend,  I  am  very 
miserable.11 


156  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Mr.  Winkle  professed  his  heartfelt  regret  to  hear  it,  and 
begged  to  know  whether  he  could  do  anything  to  alleviate 
the  sorrows  of  the  suffering  student. 

"Nothing,  my  dear  boy,  nothing,'1  said  Ben.  "You 
recollect  Arabella,  Winkle?  My  sister  Arabella — a  little 
girl,  Winkle,  with  black  eyes — when  we  were  down  at 
Wardle's?  I  don't  know  whether  you  happened  to  notice 
her,  a  nice  little  girl,  Winkle.  Perhaps  my  features  may 
recal  her  countenance  to  your  recollection  ? " 

Mr.  Winkle  required  nothing  to  recal  the  charming 
Arabella  to  his  mind ;  and  it  was  rather  fortunate  he 
did  not,  for  the  features  of  her  brother  Benjamin  would 
unquestionably  have  proved  but  an  indifferent  refresher 
to  his  memory.  He  answered,  with  as  much  calmness 
as  he  could  assume,  that  he  perfectly  remembered  the  young 
lady  referred  to,  and  sincerely  trusted  she  was  in  good 
health. 

"  Our  friend  Bob  is  a  delightful  fellow,  Winkle,"  was  the 
only  reply  of  Mr,  Ben  Allen. 

"Very,"  said  Mr.  Winkle;  not  much  relishing  this  close 
connexion  of  the  two  names. 

"I  designed  'em  for  each  other;  they  were  made  for  each 
other,  sent  into  the  world  for  each  other,  born  for  each 
other,  Winkle,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  setting  down  his  glass 
with  emphasis.  "There's  a  special  destiny  in  the  matter, 
my  dear  sir;  there's  only  five  years'  difference  between  'em, 
and  both  their  birthdays  are  in  August." 

Mr.  Winkle  was  too  anxious  to  hear  what  was  to  follow, 
to  express  much  wonderment  at  this  extraordinary  coincidence, 
marvellous  as  it  was;  so  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  after  a  tear  or  two, 
went  on  to  say,  that,  notwithstanding  all  his  esteem  and 
respect  and  veneration  for  his  friend,  Arabella  had  unaccount- 
ably and  undutifully  evinced  the  most  determined  antipathy 
to  his  person. 

"And  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  in  conclusion,  "/ 
think  there's  a  prior  attachment." 


A  SUSPECTED  PRIOR  ATTACHMENT.       157 

"  Have  you  any  idea  who  the  object  of  it  might  be  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Winkle,  with  great  trepidation. 

Mr.  Ben  Allen  seized  the  poker,  flourished  it  in  a  warlike 
manner  above  his  head,  inflicted  a  savage  blow  on  an  imagi- 
nary skull,  and  wound  up  by  saying,  in  a  very  expressive 
manner,  that  he  only  wished  he  could  guess ;  that  was  all. 

"  Fd  show  him  what  I  thought  of  him,"1  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen. 
And  round  went  the  poker  again,  more  fiercely  than  before. 

All  this  was,  of  course,  very  soothing  to  the  feelings  of 
Mr.  Winkle,  who  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes ;  but 
at  length  mustered  up  resolution  to  inquire  whether  Miss 
Allen  was  in  Kent. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  laying  aside  the  poker,  and 
looking  very  cunning;  "I  didn't  think  Wardle's  exactly  the 
place  for  a  headstrong  girl ;  so,  as  I  am  her  natural  protector 
and  guardian,  our  parents  being  dead,  I  have  brought  her 
down  into  this  part  of  the  country  to  spend  a  few  months 
at  an  old  aunt's,  in  a  nice  dull  close  place.  I  think  that 
will  cure  her,  my  boy.  If  it  doesn't,  Til  take  her  abroad 
for  a  little  while,  and  see  what  that'll  do." 

"Oh,  the  aunt's  is  in  Bristol,  is  it?"  faltered  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  No,  no,  not  in  Bristol,"  replied  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  jerking 
his  thumb  over  his  right  shoulder :  "  over  that  way ;  down 
there.  But,  hush,  here's  Bob.  Not  a  word,  my  dear  friend, 
not  a  word." 

Short  as  this  conversation  was,  it  roused  in  Mr.  Winkle 
the  highest  degree  of  excitement  and  anxiety.  The  suspected 
prior  attachment  rankled  in  his  heart.  Could  he  be  the  object 
of  it  ?  Could  it  be  for  him  that  the  fair  Arabella  had  looked 
scornfully  on  the  sprightly  Bob  Sawyer,  or  had  he  a  successful 
rival  ?  He  determined  to  see  her,  cost  what  it  might ;  but 
here  an  insurmountable  objection  presented  itself,  for  whether 
the  explanatory  "  over  that  way,"  and  "  down  there,"  of  Mr. 
Ben  Allen,  meant  three  miles  off,  or  thirty,  or  three  hundred, 
he  could  in  no  wise  guess. 

But  he  had  no  opportunity  of  pondering  over  his  love  just 


158  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

then,  for  Bob  Sawyer's  return  was  the  immediate  precursor 
of  the  arrival  of  a  meat  pie  from  the  baker's,  of  which  that 
gentleman  insisted  on  his  staying  to  partake.  The  cloth 
was  laid  by  an  occasional  charwoman,  who  officiated  in  the 
capacity  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  housekeeper ;  and  a  third  knife 
and  fork  having  been  borrowed  from  the  mother  of  the  boy 
in  the  grey  livery  (for  Mr.  Sawyer's  domestic  arrangements 
were  as  yet  conducted  on  a  limited  scale),  they  sat  down  to 
dinner;  the  beer  being  served  up,  as  Mr.  Sawyer  remarked, 
"in  its  native  pewter."" 

After  dinner,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  ordered  in  the  largest 
mortar  in  the  shop,  and  proceeded  to  brew  a  reeking  jorum 
of  rum-punch  therein :  stirring  up  and  amalgamating  the 
materials  with  a  pestle  in  a  very  creditable  and  apothecary- 
like  manner.  Mr.  Sawyer,  being  a  bachelor,  had  only  one 
tumbler  in  the  house,  which  was  assigned  to  Mr.  Winkle  as 
a  compliment  to  the  visitor :  Mr.  Ben  Allen  being  accommo- 
dated with  a  funnel  with  a  cork  in  the  narrow  end :  and  Bob 
Sawyer  contented  himself  with  one  of  those  wide-lipped 
crystal  vessels  inscribed  with  a  variety  of  cabalistic  characters, 
in  which  chemists  are  wont  to  measure  out  their  liquid  drugs 
in  compounding  prescriptions.  These  preliminaries  adjusted, 
the  punch  was  tasted,  and  pronounced  excellent ;  and  it 
having  been  arranged  that  Bob  Sawyer  and  Ben  Allen  should 
be  considered  at  liberty  to  fill  twice  to  Mr.  Winkle's  once, 
they  started  fair,  with  great  satisfaction  and  good-fellowship. 

There  was  no  singing,  because  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  said  it 
wouldn't  look  professional ;  but  to  make  amends  for  this 
deprivation  there  was  so  much  talking  and  laughing  that  it 
might  have  been  heard,  and  very  likely  was,  at  the  end  of 
the  street.  Which  conversation  materially  lightened  the 
hours  and  improved  the  mind  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  boy,  who, 
instead  of  devoting  the  evening  to  his  ordinary  occupation 
of  writing  his  name  on  the  counter,  and  rubbing  it  out 
again,  peeped  through  the  glass  door,  and  thus  listened  and 
looked  on  at  the  same  time. 


THE  REVELLERS  HASTILY  DISPERSED.    159 

The  mirth  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  was  rapidly  ripening  into 
the  furious;  Mr.  Ben  Allen  was  fast  relapsing  into  the  senti- 
mental, and  the  punch  had  well-nigh  disappeared  altogether, 
when  the  boy  hastily  running  in,  announced  that  a  young 
woman  had  just  come  over,  to  say  that  Sawyer  late  Nockemorf 
was  wanted  directly,  a  couple  of  streets  off.  This  broke  up 
the  party.  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  understanding  the  message, 
after  some  twenty  repetitions,  tied  a  wet  cloth  round  his 
head  to  sober  himself,  and,  having  partially  succeeded,  put  on 
his  green  spectacles  and  issued  forth.  Resisting  all  entreaties 
to  stay  till  he  came  back,  and  finding  it  quite  impossible  to 
engage  Mr.  Ben  Allen  in  any  intelligible  conversation  on  the 
subject  nearest  his  heart,  or  indeed  on  any  other,  Mr.  Winkle 
took  his  departure,  and  returned  to  the  Bush. 

The  anxiety  of  his  mind,  and  the  numerous  meditations 
which  Arabella  had  awakened,  prevented  his  share  of  the 
mortar  of  punch  producing  that  effect  upon  him  which  it 
would  have  had,  under  other  circumstances.  So,  after  taking 
a  glass  of  soda-water  and  brandy  at  the  bar,  he  turned  into 
the  coffee-room,  dispirited  rather  than  elevated  by  the  occur- 
rences of  the  evening. 

Sitting  in  the  front  of  the  fire,  with  his  back  towards  him, 
was  a  tallish  gentleman  in  a  great-coat:  the  only  other 
occupant  of  the  room.  It  was  rather  a  cool  evening  for  the 
season  of  the  year,  and  the  gentleman  drew  his  chair  aside 
to  afford  the  new  comer  a  sight  of  the  fire.  What  were  Mr. 
Winkle's  feelings  when,  in  doing  so,  he  disclosed  to  view  the 
face  and  figure  of  the  vindictive  and  sanguinary  Dowler ! 

Mr.  Winkle^s  first  impulse  was  to  give  a  violent  pull  at 
the  nearest  bell-handle,  but  that  unfortunately  happened  to 
be  immediately  behind  Mr.  Dowler's  head.  He  had  made 
one  step  towards  it,  before  he  checked  himself.  As  he  did 
so,  Mr.  Dowler  very  hastily  drew  back. 

"Mr.  Winkle,  sir.  Be  calm.  Don't  strike  me.  I  won't 
bear  it.  A  blow  !  Never ! "  said  Mr.  Dowler,  looking  meeker 
than  Mr.  Winkle  had  expected  in  a  gentleman  of  his  ferocity. 


160  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"A  blow,  sir?11  stammered  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  A  blow,  sir,11  replied  Dowler.  "  Compose  your  feelings. 
Sit  down.  Hear  me." 

"Sir,11  said  Mr.  Winkle,  trembling  from  head  to  foot, 
"  before  I  consent  to  sit  down  beside,  or  opposite  you,  with- 
out the  presence  of  a  waiter,  I  must  be  secured  by  some 
further  understanding.  You  used  a  threat  against  me  last 
night,  sir,  a  dreadful  threat,  sir.11  Here  Mr.  Winkle  turned 
very  pale  indeed,  and  stopped  short. 

"  I  did,11  said  Dowler,  with  a  countenance  almost  as  white 
as  Mr.  Winkled.  "  Circumstances  were  suspicious.  They  have 
been  explained.  I  respect  your  bravery.  Your  feeling  is 
upright.  Conscious  innocence.  There's  my  hand.  Grasp  it.11 

"Really,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Winkle,  hesitating  whether  to  give 
his  hand  or  not,  and  almost  fearing  that  it  was  demanded 
in  order  that  he  might  be  taken  at  an  advantage,  "really, 
sir,  I " 

"I  know  what  you  mean,11  interposed  Dowler.  "You  feel 
aggrieved.  Very  natural.  So  should  I.  I  was  wrong.  I 
beg  your  pardon.  Be  friendly.  Forgive  me.11  With  this, 
Dowler  fairly  forced  his  hand  upon  Mr.  Winkle,  and  shaking 
it  with  the  utmost  vehemence,  declared  he  was  a  fellow  of 
extreme  spirit,  and  he  had  a  higher  opinion  of  him  than  ever. 

"Now,11  said  Dowler,  "sit  down.  Relate  it  all.  How  did 
you  find  me  ?  When  did  you  follow  ?  Be  frank.  Tell  me.11 

"Ifs  quite  accidental,1'  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  greatly  per- 
plexed by  the  curious  and  unexpected  nature  of  the  interview, 
"  Quite.11 

"  Glad  of  it,11  said  Dowler.  "  I  woke  this  morning.  I  had 
forgotten  my  threat.  I  laughed  at  the  accident.  I  felt 
friendly.  I  said  so.11 

"  To  whom  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  To  Mrs.  Dowler.  *  You  made  a  vow/  said  she.  '  I  did,' 
said  I.  '  It  was  a  rash  one,1  said  she.  '  It  was,1  said  I. 
Til  apologise.  Where  is  he?111 

"Who?11  inquired  Mr.  Winkle. 


MAGNANIMITY.  161 

"  You,"  replied  Dowler.  "  I  went  down  stairs.  You  were 
not  to  be  found.  Pickwick  looked  gloomy.  Shook  his  head. 
Hoped  no  violence  would  be  committed.  I  saw  it  all. 
You  felt  yourself  insulted.  You  had  gone,  for  a  friend 
perhaps.  Possibly  for  pistols.  'High  spirit,'  said  I.  'I 
admire  him.'" 

Mr.  Winkle  coughed,  and  beginning  to  see  how  the  land 
lay,  assumed  a  look  of  importance. 

"  I  left  a  note  for  you,"11  resumed  Dowler.  "  I  said  I  was 
sorry.  So  I  was.  Pressing  business  called  me  here.  You 
were  not  satisfied.  You  followed  You  required  a  verbal 
explanation.  You  were  right.  It's  all  over  now.  My 
business  is  finished.  I  go  back  to-morrow.  Join  me."" 

As  Dowler  progressed  in  his  explanation,  Mr.  Winkle's 
countenance  grew  more  and  more  dignified.  The  mysterious 
nature  of  the  commencement  of  their  conversation  was  ex- 
plained; Mr.  Dowler  had  as  great  an  objection  to  duelling 
as  himself;  in  short,  this  blustering  and  awful  personage 
was  one  of  the  most  egregious  cowards  in  existence,  and 
interpreting  Mr.  Winkle's  absence  through  the  medium  of 
his  own  fears,  had  taken  the  same  step  as  himself,  and 
prudently  retired  until  all  excitement  of  feeling  should  have 
subsided. 

As  the  real  state  of  the  case  dawned  upon  Mr.  Winkle's 
mind,  he  looked  very  terrible,  and  said  he  was  perfectly 
satisfied;  but  at  the  same  time,  said  so,  with  an  air  that 
left  Mr.  Dowler  no  alternative  but  to  infer  that  if  he  had 
not  been,  something  most  horrible  and  destructive  must 
inevitably  have  occurred.  Mr.  Dowler  appeared  to  be 
impressed  with  a  becoming  sense  of  Mr.  Winkle's  magnanimity 
and  condescension;  and  the  two  belligerents  parted  for  the 
night,  with  many  protestations  of  eternal  friendship. 

About  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  when  Mr.  Winkle  had  been 
revelling  some  twenty  minutes  in  the  full  luxury  of  his  first 
sleep,  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by  a  loud  knocking  at  his 
chamber-door,  which,  being  repeated  with  increased  vehemence, 

VOL.   II.  M 


162  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

caused  him  to  start  up  in  bed,  and  inquire  who  was  there, 
and  what  the  matter  was. 

"Please,  sir,  here's  a  young  man  which  says  he  must  see 
you  directly,11  responded  the  voice  of  the  chambermaid. 

"  A  young  man ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Winkle. 

"No  mistake  about  that  'ere,  sir,"  replied  another  voice 
through  the  keyhole;  "and  if  that  wery  same  interestin' 
young  creetur  ain't  let  in  vithout  delay,  it's  wery  possible  as 
his  legs  vill  enter  afore  his  countenance."  The  young  man 
gave  a  gentle  kick  at  one  of  the  lower  panels  of  the  door, 
after  he  had  given  utterance  to  this  hint,  as  if  to  add  force 
and  point  to  the  remark. 

"  Is  that  you,  Sam  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Winkle,  springing  out 
of  bed. 

"  Quite  unpossible  to  identify  any  genTm'n  vith  any  degree 
o'  mental  satisfaction,  vithout  lookin'  at  him,  sir,'1  replied 
the  voice,  dogmatically. 

Mr.  Winkle,  not  much  doubting  who  the  young  man  was, 
unlocked  the  door;  which  he  had  no  sooner  done,  than  Mr. 
Samuel  Weller  entered  with  great  precipitation,  and  carefully 
re-locking  it  on  the  inside,  deliberately  put  the  key  in  his 
waistcoat  pocket:  and,  after  surveying  Mr.  Winkle  from 
head  to  foot,  said : 

"  You're  a  wery  humorous  young  gen'l'm'n,  you  air,  sir ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  conduct,  Sam  ?  "  inquired  Mr. 
Winkle,  indignantly.  "Get  out,  sir,  this  instant.  What  do 
you  mean,  sir?" 

"What  do  /  mean,"  retorted  Sam;  "come  sir,  this  is 
rayther  too  rich,  as  the  young  lady  said,  wen  she  remonstrated 
with  the  pastry-cook,  arter  he'd  sold  her  a  pork-pie  as  had 
got  nothin'  but  fat  inside.  What  do  /  mean !  Well,  that 
ain't  a  bad  'un,  that  ain't." 

"Unlock  that  door,  and  leave  this  room  immediately,  sir," 
said  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  I  shall  leave  this  here  room,  sir,  just  precisely  at  the 
wery  same  moment  as  you  leaves  i V  responded  Sam,  speaking 


MR.  WELLER  REPROVES  MR.  WINKLE.     163 

in  a  forcible  manner,  and  seating  himself  with  perfect  gravity. 
"If  I  find  it  necessary  to  carry  you  away,  pick-a-back,  6* 
course  I  shall  leave  it  the  least  bit  o'  time  possible  afore 
you;  but  allow  me  to  express  a  hope  as  you  won't  reduce 
me  to  ex-tremities ;  in  saying  wich,  I  merely  quote  wot  the 
nobleman  said  to  the  fractious  pennywinkle,  ven  he  vouldn't 
come  out  of  his  shell  by  means  of  a  pin,  and  he  conseqvently 
began  to  be  afeered  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  crack  him 
in  the  parlour-door.'"  At  the  end  of  this  address,  which 
was  unusually  lengthy  for  him,  Mr.  Weller  planted  his  hands 
on  his  knees,  and  looked  full  in  Mr.  Winkle's  face,  with  an 
expression  of  countenance  which  showed  that  he  had  not  the 
remotest  intention  of  being  trifled  with. 

"  You're  a  amiably-disposed  young  man,  sir,  I  don't  think," 
resumed  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  tone  of  moral  reproof,  "to  go 
inwolving  our  precious  governor  in  all  sorts  o'  fanteegs,  wen 
he's  made  up  his  mind  to  go  through  every  think  for  principle. 
You're  far  worse  nor  Dodson,  sir ;  and  as  for  Fogg,  I  consider 
him  a  born  angel  to  you  ! "  Mr.  Weller  having  accompanied 
this  last  sentiment  with  an  emphatic  slap  on  each  knee, 
folded  his  arms  with  a  look  of  great  disgust,  and  threw 
himself  back  in  his  chair,  as  if  awaiting  the 'criminal's  defence. 

"My  good  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  extending  his  hand; 
his  teeth  chattering  all  the  time  he  spoke,  for  he  had  been 
standing,  during  the  whole  of  Mr.  Weller's  lecture,  in  his 
night-gear;  "My  good  fellow,  I  respect  your  attachment  to 
my  excellent  friend,  and  I  am  very  sorry  indeed,  to  have 
added  to  his  causes  for  disquiet.  There,  Sam,  there  I  " 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  rather  sulkily,  but  giving  the  proffered 
hand  a  respectful  shake  at  the  same  time :  "  Well,  so  you 
ought  to  be,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  find  you  air;  for,  if  I 
can  help  it,  I  won't  have  him  put  upon  by  nobody,  and  that's 
all  about  it." 

"Certainly  not,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Winkle.  "There!  Now 
go  to  bed,  Sam,  and  we'll  talk  further  about  this,  in  the 
morning." 


164  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  I'm  wery  sorry,1'  said  Sam,  "  but  I  can't  go  to  bed." 

"  Not  go  to  bed ! "  repeated  Mr.  Winkle. 

"No,1'  said  Sam,  shaking  his  head.     "Can't  be  done." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you're  going  back  to-night,  Sam  ?  " 
urged  Mr.  Winkle,  greatly  surprised. 

"Not  unless  you  particklerly  wish  it,"  replied  Sam;  "but 
I  musn't  leave  this  here  room.  The  governor's  orders  wos 
peremptory." 

" Nonsense,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  "I  must  stop  here 
two  or  three  days ;  and  more  than  that,  Sam,  you  must  stop 
here  too,  to  assist  me  in  gaining  an  interview  with  a  young 
lady — Miss  Allen,  Sam ;  you  remember  her — whom  I  must 
and  will  see  before  I  leave  Bristol." 

But  in  reply  to  each  of  these  positions,  Sam  shook  his 
head  with  great  firmness,  and  energetically  replied,  "It  can't 
be  done." 

After  a  great  deal  of  argument  and  representation  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Winkle,  however,  and  a  full  disclosure  of 
what  had  passed  in  the  interview  with  Dowler,  Sam  began  to 
waver;  and  at  length  a  compromise  was  effected,  of  which 
the  following  were  the  main  and  principal  conditions: 

That  Sam  should  retire,  and  leave  Mr.  Winkle  in  the 
undisturbed  possession  of  his  apartment,  on  the  condition 
that  he  had  permission  to  lock  the  door  on  the  outside,  and 
carry  off  the  key ;  provided  always,  that  in  the  event  of  an 
alarm  of  fire,  or  other  dangerous  contingency,  the  door  should 
be  instantly  unlocked.  That  a  letter  should  be  written  to 
Mr.  Pickwick  early  next  morning,  and  forwarded  per  Dowler, 
requesting  his  consent  to  Sam  and  Mr.  Winkle's  remaining 
at  Bristol,  for  the  purpose,  and  with  the  object,  already 
assigned,  and  begging  an  answer  by  the  next  coach;  if 
favourable,  the  aforesaid  parties  to  remain  accordingly,  and 
if  not,  to  return  to  Bath  immediately  on  the  receipt  thereof. 
And,  lastly,  that  Mr.  AVinkle  should  be  understood  as 
distinctly  pledging  himself  not  to  resort  to  the  window,  fire- 
place, or  other  surreptitious  mode  of  escape,  in  the  meanwhile. 


MR.  WELLER  LOCKS  MR.  WINKLE  IN.     165 

These  stipulations  having  been  concluded,  Sam  locked  the 
door  and  departed. 

He  had  nearly  got  down  stairs,  when  he  stopped,  and  drew 
the  key  from  his  pocket. 

"I  quite  forgot  about  the  knockin"  down,"  said  Sam,  half 
turning  back.  "The  governor  distinctly  said  it  was  to  be 
done.  Amazin1  stupid  o"1  me,  that  'ere !  Never  mind,"  said 
Sam,  brightening  up,  "  it's  easily  done  to-morrow,  anyvays." 

Apparently  much  consoled  by  this  reflection,  Mr.  Weller  once 
more  deposited  the  key  in  his  pocket,  and  descending  the 
remainder  of  the  stairs  without  any  fresh  visitations  of 
conscience,  was  soon,  in  common  with  the  other  inmates  of 
the  house,  buried  in  profound  repose. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

MR.  SAMUEL  WELLER,  BEING  ENTRUSTED  WITH  A  MISSION  OF 
LOVE,  PROCEEDS  TO  EXECUTE  IT;  WITH  WHAT  SUCCESS  WILL 
HEREINAFTER  APPEAR. 

DURING  the  whole  of  next  day,  Sam  kept  Mr.  Winkle 
steadily  in  sight,  fully  determined  not  to  take  his  eye  off  him 
for  one  instant,  until  he  should  receive  express  instructions 
from  the  fountain-head.  However  disagreeable  Sam's  very 
close  watch  and  great  vigilance  were  to  Mr.  Winkle,  he 
thought  it  better  to  bear  with  them,  than,  by  any  act  of 
violent  opposition,  to  hazard  being  carried  away  by  force, 
which  Mr.  Weller  more  than  once  strongly  hinted  was  the 
line  of  conduct  that  a  strict  sense  of  duty  prompted  him  to 
pursue.  There  is  little  reason  to  doubt  that  Sam  would  very 
speedily  have  quieted  his  scruples,  by  bearing  Mr.  Winkle 
back  to  Bath,  bound  hand  and  foot,  had  not  Mr.  Pickwick's 
prompt  attention  to  the  note,  which  Dowler  had  undertaken 
to  deliver,  forestalled  any  such  proceeding.  In  short,  at 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Pickwick  himself  walked  into 
the  coffee-room  of  the  Bush  tavern,  and  told  Sam  with  a  smile, 
to  his  very  great  relief,  that  he  had  done  quite  right,  and  it 
was  unnecessary  for  him  to  mount  guard  any  longer. 

"I  thought  it  better  to  come  myself,1'  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
addressing  Mr.  Winkle,  as  Sam  disencumbered  him  of  his 
great-coat  and  travelling  shawl,  "to  ascertain,  before  I  gave 
my  consent  to  Sam's  employment  in  this  matter,  that  you 


STATE  OF  MR.   WINKLE'S  AFFECTIONS.     167 

are  quite  in  earnest  and  serious,  with  respect  to  this 
young  lady." 

"Serious,  from  my  heart — from  my  soul!"  returned  Mr. 
Winkle,  with  great  energy. 

"  Remember,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  beaming  eyes,  "  we 
met  her  at  our  excellent  and  hospitable  friend\  Winkle.  It 
would  be  an  ill  return  to  tamper  lightly,  and  without  due 
consideration  with  this  young  lady's  affections.  Til  not  allow 
that,  sir.  Til  not  allow  it.11 

"  I  have  no  such  intention,  indeed,""  exclaimed  Mr.  Winkle, 
warmly.  "  I  have  considered  the  matter  well,  for  a  long  time, 
and  I  feel  that  my  happiness  is  bound  up  in  her.11 

"That's  wot  we  call  tying  it  up  in  a  small  parcel,  sir,11 
interposed  Mr.  Weller,  with  an  agreeable  smile. 

Mr.  Winkle  looked  somewhat  stern  at  this  interruption, 
and  Mr.  Pickwick  angrily  requested  his  attendant  not  to  jest 
with  one  of  the  best  feelings  of  our  nature ;  to  which  Sam 
replied,  "  That  he  wouldn't,  if  he  was  aware  on  it ;  but  there 
were  so  many  on1  em,  that  he  hardly  know'd  which  was  the 
best  ones  wen  he  heerd  'em  mentioned.11 

Mr.  Winkle  then  recounted  what  had  passed  between  himself 
and  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  relative  to  Arabella;  stated  that  his 
object  was  to  gain  an  interview  with  the  young  lady,  and 
make  a  formal  disclosure  of  his  passion;  and  declared  his 
conviction,  founded  on  certain  dark  hints  and  mutterings  of 
the  aforesaid  Ben,  that,  wherever  she  was  at  present  immured, 
it  was  somewhere  near  the  Downs.  And  this  was  his  whole 
stock  of  knowledge  or  suspicion  on  the  subject. 

With  this  very  slight  clue  to  guide  him,  it  was  determined 
that  Mr.  Weller  should  start  next  morning  on  an  expedition 
of  discovery ;  it  was  also  arranged  that  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr. 
Winkle,  who  were  less  confident  of  their  powers,  should  parade 
the  town  meanwhile,  and  accidentally  drop  in  upon  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer  in  the  course  of  the  day,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  or 
hearing  something  of  the  young  lady^  whereabout. 

Accordingly,  next  morning,  Sam  Weller  issued  forth  upon 


168  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

his  quest,  in  no  way  daunted  by  the  very  discouraging  prospect 
before  him;  and  away  he  walked,  up  one  street  and  down 
another — we  were  going  to  say,  up  one  hill  and  down  another, 
only  it's  all  uphill  at  Clifton — without  meeting  with  anything 
or  anybody  that  tended  to  throw  the  faintest  light  on  the 
matter  in  hand.  Many  were  the  colloquies  into  which  Sam 
entered  with  grooms  who  were  airing  horses  on  roads,  and 
nursemaids  who  were  airing  children  in  lanes ;  but  nothing 
could  Sam  elicit  from  either  the  first-mentioned  or  the  last, 
which  bore  the  slightest  reference  to  the  object  of  his  artfully- 
prosecuted  inquiries.  There  were  a  great  many  young  ladies 
in  a  great  many  houses,  the  greater  part  whereof  were  shrewdly 
suspected  by  the  male  and  female  domestics  to  be  deeply 
attached  to  somebody,  or  perfectly  ready  to  become  so,  if 
opportunity  offered.  But  as  none  among  these  young  ladies 
was  Miss  Arabella  Allen,  the  information  left  Sam  at  exactly 
the  old  point  of  wisdom  at  which  he  had  stood  before. 

Sam  struggled  across  the  Downs  against  a  good  high  wind, 
wondering  whether  it  was  always  necessary  to  hold  your  hat 
on  with  both  hands  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  came  to 
a  shady  by-place  about  which  were  sprinkled  several  little 
villas  of  quiet  and  secluded  appearance.  Outside  a  stable-door 
at  the  bottom  of  a  long  back  lane  without  a  thoroughfare,  a 
groom  in  undress  was  idling  about,  apparently  persuading 
himself  that  he  was  doing  something  with  a  spade  and  a 
wheelbarrow.  We  may  remark,  in  this  place,  that  we  have 
scarcely  ever  seen  a  groom  near  a  stable,  in  his  lazy  moments, 
who  has  not  been,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  the  victim  of 
this  singular  delusion. 

Sam  thought  he  might  as  well  talk  to  this  groom  as  to  any 
one  else,  especially  as  he  was  very  tired  with  walking,  and  there 
was  a  good  large  stone  just  opposite  the  wheelbarrow;  so  he 
strolled  down  the  lane,  and,  seating  himself  on  the  stone, 
opened  a  conversation  with  the  ease  and  freedom  for  which 
he  was  remarkable. 

"Mornin',  old  friend,"  said  Sam. 


MR.   WELLER  MAKES  A  FEW  INQUIRIES.    169 

"Arternoon,  you  mean,"  replied  the  groom,  casting  a  surly 
look  at  Sam. 

"You're  wery  right,  old  friend,"  said  Sam;  "I  do  mean 
arternoon.  How  are  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  don't  find  myself  much  the  better  for  seeing  of 
you,"  replied  the  ill-tempered  groom. 

"That's  wery  odd — that  is,"  said  Sam,  "for  you  look  so 
uncommon  cheerful,  and  seem  altogether  so  lively,  that  it 
does  vun's  heart  good  to  see  you." 

The  surly  groom  looked  surlier  still  at  this,  but  not 
sufficiently  so  to  produce  any  effect  upon  Sam,  who  immediately 
inquired,  with  a  countenance  of  great  anxiety,  whether  his 
master's  name -was  not  Walker. 

"No,  it  ain't,"  said  the  groom. 

"Nor  Brown,  I  s'pose?"  said  Sam. 

"  No,  it  ain't." 

"Nor  Vilson?" 

"  No ;  nor  that  neither,"  said  the  groom. 

"  Veil,"  replied  Sam,  "  then  I'm  mistaken,  and  he  hasn't  got 
the  honor  o'  my  acquaintance,  which  I  thought  he  had. 
Don't  wait  here  out  o'  compliment  to  me,"  said  Sam,  as  the 
groom  wheeled  in  the  barrow,  and  prepared  to  shut  the  gate. 
"  Ease  afore  ceremony,  old  boy ;  I'll  excuse  you." 

"  I'd  knock  your  head  off  for  half-a-crown,"  said  the  surly 
groom,  bolting  one  half  of  the  gate. 

"Couldn't  afford  to  have  it  done  on  those  terms,"  rejoined 
Sam.  "  It  'ud  be  worth  a  life's  board  vages  at  least,  to  you, 
and  'ud  be  cheap  at  that.  Make  my  compliments  in  doors. 
Tell  'em  not  to  vait  dinner  for  me,  and  say  they  needn't  mind 
puttin'  any  by,  for  it'll  be  cold  afore  I  come  in." 

In  reply  to  this,  the  groom  waxing  very  wrath,  muttered  a 
desire  to  damage  somebody's  person ;  but  disappeared  without 
carrying  it  into  execution,  slamming  the  door  angrily  after 
him,  and  wholly  unheeding  Sam's  affectionate  request,  that 
he  would  leave  him  a  lock  of  his  hair  before  he  went. 

Sam  continued  to  sit  on  the  large  stone,  meditating  upon 


170  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

what  was  best  to  be  done,  and  revolving  in  his  mind  a  plan 
for  knocking  at  all  the  doors  within  five  miles  of  Bristol, 
taking  them  at  a  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  a  day, 
and  endeavouring  to  find  Miss  Arabella  by  that  expedient, 
when  accident  all  of  a  sildden  threw  in  his  way  what  he  might 
have  sat  there  for  a  twelvemonth  and  yet  not  found  with- 
out it. 

Into  the  lane  where  he  sat,  there  opened  three  or  four 
garden-gates,  belonging  to  as  many  houses,  which  though 
detached  from  each  other,  were  only  separated  by  their 
gardens.  As  these  were  large  and  long,  and  well  planted  with 
trees,  the  houses  were  not  only  at  some  distance  off,  but  the 
greater  part  of  them  were  nearly  concealed  from  view.  Sam 
was  sitting  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  dust-heap  outside  the 
next  gate  to  that  by  which  the  groom  had  disappeared, 
profoundly  turning  over  in  his  mind  the  difficulties  of  his 
present  undertaking,  when  the  gate  opened,  and  a  female 
servant  came  out  into  the  lane  to  shake  some  bed-side  carpets. 

Sam  was  so  very  busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  that  it  is 
probable  he  would  have  taken  no  more  notice  of  the  young 
woman  than  just  raising  his  head  and  remarking  that  she  had 
a  very  neat  and  pretty  figure,  if  his  feelings  of  gallantry  had 
not  been  most  strongly  roused  by  observing  that  she  had  no 
one  to  help  her,  and  that  the  carpets  seemed  too  heavy  for 
her  single  strength.  Mr.  Weller  was  a  gentleman  of  great 
gallantry  in  his  own  way,  and  he  no  sooner  remarked  this 
circumstance  than  he  hastily  rose  from  the  large  stone,  and 
advanced  towards  her. 

"My  dear,"  said  Sam,  sliding  up  with  an  air  of  great 
respect,  "Youll  spile  that  wery  pretty  figure  out  o1  all 
jterportion  if  you  shake  them  carpets  by  yourself.  Let  me 
help  you." 

The  young  lady,  who  had  been  coyly  affecting  not  to  know 
that  a  gentleman  was  so  near,  turned  round  as  Sam  spoke — no 
doubt  (indeed  she  said  so,  afterwards)  to  decline  this  offer  from 
a  perfect  stranger — when  instead  of  speaking,  she  started 


A  LUCKY  ACCIDENT.  171 

back,  and  uttered  a  half-suppressed  scream.  Sam  was 
scarcely  less  stupefied,  for  in  the  countenance  of  the  well-shaped 
female  servant,  he  beheld  the  very  eyes  of  his  Valentine,  the 
pretty  housemaid  from  Mr.  Nupkins's. 

"Wy,  Mary  my  dear!""  said  Sam. 

"  Lauk,  Mr.  Weller,11  said  Mary,  "  how  you  do  frighten  one !" 

Sam  made  no  verbal  answer  to  this  complaint,  nor  can  we 
precisely  say  what  reply  he  did  make.  We  merely  know  that 
after  a  short  pause  Mary  said,  "Lor  do  adun,  Mr.  Weller !" 
and  that  his  hat  had  fallen  off  a  few  moments  before — from 
both  of  which  tokens  we  should  be  disposed  to  infer  that  one 
kiss  or  more,  had  passed  between  the  parties. 

"Why,  how  did  you  come  here?11  said  Mary,  when  the 
conversation  to  which  this  interruption  had  been  offered,  was 
resumed. 

"  O1  course  I  came  to  look  arter  you,  my  darlin,11  replied 
Mr.  Weller ;  for  once  permitting  his  passion  to  get  the  better 
of  his  veracity. 

"And  how  did  you  know  I  was  here?""  inquired  Mary. 
"Who  could  have  told  you  that  I  took  another  service  at 
Ipswich,  and  that  they  afterwards  moved  all  the  way  here? 
Who  could  have  told  you  that,  Mr.  Weller  ? " 

"Ah  to  be  sure,11  said  Sam  with  a  cunning  look,  "that's 
the  pint.  Who  could  ha1  told  me  ? " 

"  It  wasn't  Mr.  Muzzle,  was  it  ? ""  inquired  Mary. 

"  Oh,  no,11  replied  Sam,  with  a  solemn  shake  of  the  head, 
"  it  warn't  him.11 

"It  must  have  been  the  cook,11  said  Mary. 

"O1  course  it  must,11  said  Sam. 

"Well,  I  never  heard  the  like  of  that!11  exclaimed  Mary. 

"  No  more  did  I,11  said  Sam.  "  But  Mary,  my  dear : "  here 
SanTs  manner  grew  extremely  affectionate :  "  Mary,  my  dear, 
I've  got  another  affair  in  hand  as  is  wery  pressin1.  There1s  one 
o'  my  governor's  friends — Mr.  Winkle,  you  remember  him.11 

"Him  in  the  green  coat?11  said  Mary.  "Oh,  yes,  I 
remember  him.11 


172  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  "  he's  in  a  horrid  state  o'  love ;  reg'larly 
comfoozled,  and  done  over  with  it." 

"Lor!"  interposed  Mary. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sam :  "  but  that's  nothin'  if  we  could  find  out 
the  young  'ooman;"  and  here  Sam,  with  many  digressions 
upon  the  personal  beauty  of  Mary,  and  the  unspeakable 
tortures  he  had  experienced  since  he  last  saw  her,  gave  a 
faithful  account  of  Mr.  Winkle's  present  predicament. 

"Well,"  said  Mary,  "I  never  did!" 

"O'  course  not,"  said  Sam,  "and  nobody  never  did,  nor 
never  vill  neither;  and  here  am  I  a  walkin'  about  like  the 
wandering  Jew — a  sportin'  character  you  have  perhaps  heerd 
on  Mary,  my  dear,  as  wos  alvays  doin'  a  match  agin1  time, 
and  never  vent  to  sleep — looking  arter  this  here  Miss  Arabella 
Allen." 

"  Miss  who  ?  "  said  Mary,  in  great  astonishment. 

"Miss  Arabella  Allen,"  said  Sam. 

"Goodness  gracious!"  said  Mary,  pointing  to  the  garden 
door  which  the  sulky  groom  had  locked  after  him.  "Why, 
it's  that  very  house;  she's  been  living  there  these  six  weeks. 
Their  upper  housemaid,  which  is  lady's  maid  too,  told  me  all 
about  it  over  the  wash-house  palin's  before  the  family  was 
out  of  bed,  one  mornin'." 

"  Wot,  the  wery  next  door  to  you  ? "  said  Sam. 

"  The  very  next,"  replied  Mary. 

Mr.  Weller  was  so  deeply  overcome  on  receiving  this 
intelligence  that  he  found  it  absolutely  necessary  to  cling  to 
his  fair  informant  for  support ;  and  divers  little  love  passages 
had  passed  between  them,  before  he  was  sufficiently  collected 
to  return  to  the  subject. 

"  Veil,"  said  Sam  at  length,  "  if  this  don't  beat  cock-fightin', 
nothin'  never  vill,  as  the  Lord  Mayor  said,  ven  the  chief 
secretary  o'  state  proposed  his  missis's  health  arter  dinner. 
That  wery  next  house !  Wy,  I've  got  a  message  to  her  as 
I've  been  a  tryin'  all  day  to  deliver." 

"  Ah,"  said  Mary,  "  but  you  can't  deliver  it  now,  because 


MR.  WELLER  UP  A  TREE.  173 

she  only  walks  in  the  garden  in  the  evening,  and  then  only 
for  a  very  little  time;  she  never  goes  out,  without  the 
old  lady."" 

Sam  ruminated  for  a  few  moments,  and  finally  hit  upon  the 
following  plan  of  operations;  that  he  should  return  just  at 
dusk — the  time  at  which  Arabella  invariably  took  her  walk 
— and,  being  admitted  by  Mary  into  the  garden  of  the  house 
to  which  she  belonged,  would  contrive  to  scramble  up  the 
wall,  beneath  the  over-hanging  boughs  of  a  large  pear-tree, 
which  would  effectually  screen  him  from  observation;  would 
there  deliver  his  message,  and  arrange,  if  possible,  an  interview 
on  behalf  of  Mr.  Winkle  for  the  ensuing  evening  at  the  same 
hour.  Having  made  this  arrangement  with  great  dispatch,  he 
assisted  Mary  in  the  long-deferred  occupation  of  shaking  the 
carpets. 

It  is  not  half  as  innocent  a  thing  as  it  looks,  that  shaking 
little  pieces  of  carpet — at  least,  there  may  be  no  great  harm 
in  the  shaking,  but  the  folding  is  a  very  insidious  process. 
So  long  as  the  shaking  lasts,  and  the  two  parties  are  kept 
the  carpet's  length  apart,  it  is  as  innocent  an  amusement 
as  can  well  be  devised;  but  when  the  folding  begins,  and  the 
distance  between  them  gets  gradually  lessened  from  one  half 
its  former  length  to  a  quarter,  and  then  to  an  eighth,  and 
then  to  a  sixteenth,  and  then  to  a  thirty-second,  if  the  carpet 
be  long  enough:  it  becomes  dangerous.  We  do  not  know, 
to  a  nicety,  how  many  pieces  of  carpet  were  folded  in  this 
instance,  but  we  can  venture  to  state  that  as  many  pieces 
as  there  were,  so  many  times  did  Sam  kiss  the  pretty 
housemaid. 

Mr.  Weller  regaled  himself  with  moderation  at  the  nearest 
tavern  until  it  was  nearly  dusk,  and  then  returned  to  the  lane 
without  the  thoroughfare.  Having  been  admitted  into  the 
garden  by  Mary,  and  having  received  from  that  lady  sundry 
admonitions  concerning  the  safety  of  his  limbs  and  neck,  Sam 
mounted  into  the  pear-tree,  to  wait  until  Arabella  should 
come  in  sight. 


174  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

He  waited  so  long  without  this  anxiously  expected  event 
occurring,  that  he  began  to  think  it  was  not  going  to  take 
place  at  all,  when  he  heard  light  footsteps  upon  the  gravel, 
and  immediately  afterwards  beheld  Arabella  walking  pensively 
down  the  garden.  As  soon  as  she  came  nearly  below  the  tree, 
Sam  began,  by  way  of  gently  indicating  his  presence,  to  make 
sundry  diabolical  noises  similar  to  those  which  would  probably 
be  natural  to  a  person  of  middle  age  who  had  been  afflicted 
with  a  combination  of  inflammatory  sore  throat,  croup,  and 
hooping-cough,  from  his  earliest  infancy. 

Upon  this,  the  young  lady  cast  a  hurried  glance  towards 
the  spot  from  whence  the  dreadful  sounds  proceeded ;  and  her 
previous  alarm  being  not  at  all  diminished  when  she  saw  a 
man  among  the  branches,  she  would  most  certainly  have 
decamped,  and  alarmed  the  house,  had  not  fear  fortunately 
deprived  her  of  the  power  of  moving,  and  caused  her  to 
sink  down  on  a  garden  seat;  which  happened  by  good  luck 
to  be  near  at  hand. 

"She's  a  goin'  off,"  soliloquised  Sam  in  great  perplexity. 
"Wot  a  thing  it  is,  as  these  here  young  creeturs  -will  go  a 
faintin'  avay  just  wen  they  oughtn't  to.  Here,  young  'ooman, 
Miss  Sawbones,  Mrs.  Vinkle,  don't ! " 

Whether  it  was  the  magic  of  Mr.  Winkle's  name,  or  the 
coolness  of  the  open  air,  or  some  recollection  of  Mr.  Weller's 
voice,  that  revived  Arabella,  matters  not.  She  raised  her 
head  and  knguidly  inquired,  "  Who's  that,  and  what  do  you 
want  ? " 

"  Hush,"  said  Sam,  swinging  himself  on  to  the  wall,  and 
crouching  there  in  as  small  a  compass  as  he  could  reduce 
himself  to,  "  only  me,  miss,  only  me." 

"  Mr.  Pickwick's  servant ; "  said  Arabella,  earnestly. 

"  The  wery  same,  miss,"  replied  Sam.  "  Here's  Mr.  Vinkle 
reg'larly  sewed  up  vith  desperation,  miss." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Arabella,  drawing  nearer  the  wall. 

"Ah  indeed,"  said  Sam.  "Ve  thought  ve  should  ha'  been 
obliged  to  straightveskit  him  last  night ;  he's  been  a  ravin'  all 


MR.  WELLER  BECOMES  CHIVALROUS.      175 

day ;  and  he  says  if  he  can't  see  you  afore  to-morrow  night's 
over,  he  vishes  he  may  be  somethin'-unpleasanted  if  he  don't 
drownd  hisself.' 

"  Oh  no,  no,  Mr.  Weller ! "  said  Arabella,  clasping  her 
hands. 

"  That's  wot  he  says,  miss,"  replied  Sam.  "  He's  a  man  of 
his  word,  and  it's  my  opinion  he'll  do  it,  miss.  He's  heerd 
all  about  you  from  the  Sawbones  in  barnacles." 

"From  my  brother!"  said  Arabella,  having  some  faint 
recognition  of  Sam's  description. 

"I  don't  rightly  know  which  is  your  brother,  miss,"  replied 
Sam.  "  Is  it  the  dirtiest  vun  o'  the  two  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Weller,"  returned  Arabella,  "  go  on.  Make 
haste,  pray." 

"  Well,  miss,"  said  Sam,  "  he's  heerd  all  about  it  from  him ; 
and  it's  the  gov'nor's  opinion  that  if  you  don't  see  him  wery 
quick,  the  Sawbones  as  we've  been  a  speaking  on,  'ull  get  as 
much  extra  lead  in  his  head  as'll  damage  the  dewelopment  o' 
the  orgins  if  they  ever  put  it  in  spirits  artervards." 

"Oh,  what  can  I  do  to  prevent  these  dreadful  quarrels!" 
exclaimed  Arabella. 

"  It's  the  suspicion  of  a  priory  'tachment  as  is  the  cause  of 
it  all,"  replied  Sam.  "  You'd  better  see  him,  miss." 

"But  how? — where?"  cried  Arabella.  "I  dare  not  leave 
the  house  alone.  My  brother  is  so  unkind,  so  unreasonable ! 
I  know  how  strange  my  talking  thus  to  you  must  appear, 
Mr.  Weller,  but  I  am  very,  very  unhappy — "  and  here  poor 
Arabella  wept  so  bitterly,  that  Sam  grew  chivalrous. 

"It  may  seem  very  strange  talkin'  to  me  about  these  here 
affairs,  miss,"  said  Sam  with  great  vehemence  :  "but  all  I 
can  say  is,  that  I'm  not  only  ready  but  villin'  to  do  anythin' 
as'll  make  matters  agreeable ;  and  if  chuckin'  either  o'  them 
Sawboneses  out  o'  winder  'ull  do  it,  I'm  the  man."  As  Sam 
Weller  said  this,  he  tucked  up  his  wristbands,  at  the  imminent 
hazard  of  falling  off  the  wall  in  so  doing,  to  intimate  his 
readiness  to  set  to  work  immediately. 


176  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Flattering  as  these  professions  of  good  feeling  were, 
Arabella  resolutely  declined  (most  unaccountably  as  Sam 
thought,)  to  avail  herself  of  them.  For  some  time  she 
strenuously  refused  to  grant  Mr.  Winkle  the  interview  Sam 
had  so  pathetically  requested;  but  at  length,  when  the 
conversation  threatened  to  be  interrupted  by  the  unwelcome 
arrival  of  a  third  party,  she  hurriedly  gave  him  to  understand, 
with  many  professions  of  gratitude,  that  it  was  barely  possible 
she  might  be  in  the  garden  an  hour  later,  next  evening.  Sam 
understood  this  perfectly  well ;  and  Arabella  bestowing  upon 
him  one  of  her  sweetest  smiles,  tripped  gracefully  away,  leaving 
Mr.  Weller  in  a  state  of  very  great  admiration  of  her  charms, 
both  personal  and  mental. 

Having  descended  in  safety  from  the  wall,  and  not  forgotten 
to  devote  a  few  moments  to  his  own  particular  business  in 
the  same  department,  Mr.  Weller  then  made  the  best  of  his 
way  back  to  the  Bush,  where  his  prolonged  absence  had 
occasioned  much  speculation  and  some  alarm. 

"We  must  be  careful,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  after  listening 
attentively  to  Sana's  tale,  "not  for  our  own  sakes,  but  for 
that  of  the  young  lady.  We  must  be  very  cautious." 

"  We!"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  with  marked  emphasis. 

Mr.  Pickwick^s  momentary  look  of  indignation  at  the  tone 
of  this  remark,  subsided  into  his  characteristic  expression  of 
benevolence,  as  he  replied  : 

"  We,  sir  !     I  shall  accompany  you.11 

"You I11  said  Mr.  Winkle. 

"  I,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  mildly.  "  In  affording  you  this 
interview,  the  young  lady  has  taken  a  natural,  perhaps,  but 
still  a  very  imprudent  step.  If  I  am  present  at  the  meeting, 
a  mutual  friend,  who  is  old  enough  to  be  the  father  of  both 
parties,  the  voice  of  calumny  can  never  be  raised  against  her 
hereafter.11 

Mr.  Pickwick's  eyes  lightened  with  honest  exultation  at  his 
own  foresight,  as  he  spoke  thus.  Mr.  Winkle  was  touched 
by  this  little  trait  of  his  delicate  respect  for  the  young 


ARMED  WITH  A  DARK  LANTERN.         177 

protegee  of  his  friend,  and  took  his  hand  with  a  feeling  of 
regard,  akin  to  veneration. 

"  You  shall  go,"  said  Mr.  Winkle. 

"I  will,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Sam,  have  my  great-coat 
and  shawl  ready,  and  order  a  conveyance  to  be  at  the  door 
to-morrow  evening,  rather  earlier  than  is  absolutely  necessary, 
in  order  that  we  may  be  in  good  time." 

Mr.  Weller  touched  his  hat,  as  an  earnest  of  his  obedience, 
and  withdrew  to  make  all  needful  preparations  for  the 
expedition. 

The  coach  was  punctual  to  the  time  appointed ;  and  Mr. 
Weller,  after  duly  installing  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr.  Winkle 
inside,  took  his  seat  on  the  box  by  the  driver.  They  alighted, 
as  had  been  agreed  on,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
place  of  rendezvous,  and  desiring  the  coachman  to  await  their 
return,  proceeded  the  remaining  distance  on  foot. 

It  was  at  this  stage  of  the  undertaking  that  Mr.  Pickwick, 
with  many  smiles  and  various  other  indications  of  great  self 
satisfaction,  produced  from  one  of  his  coat  pockets  a  dark 
lantern,  with  which  he  had  specially  provided  himself  for  the 
occasion,  and  the  great  mechanical  beauty  of  which,  he 
proceeded  to  explain  to  Mr.  Winkle  as  they  walked  along, 
to  the  no  small  surprise  of  the  few  stragglers  they  met. 

"  I  should  have  been  the  better  for  something  of  this  kind, 
in  my  last  garden  expedition,  at  night ;  eh,  Sam  ? "  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  looking  good-humouredly  round  at  his  follower, 
who  was  trudging  behind. 

"  Wery  nice  things,  if  they're  managed  properly,  sir,"  replied 
Mr.  Weller;  "but  when  you  don't  want  to  be  seen,  I  think 
they're  more  useful  arter  the  candle's  gone  out,  than  wen  it's 
alight." 

Mr.  Pickwick  appeared  struck  by  Sam's  remarks,  for  he 
put  the  lantern  into  his  pocket  again,  and  they  walked  on  in 
silence. 

"  Down  here,  sir,"  said  Sam.  "  Let  me  lead  the  way.  This 
is  the  lane,  sir." 

VOL.   II.  N 


178  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Down  the  lane  they  went,  and  dark  enough  it  was.  Mr. 
Pickwick  brought  out  the  lantern,  once  or  twice,  as  they 
groped  their  way  along,  and  threw  a  very  brilliant  little 
tunnel  of  light  before  them,  about  a  foot  in  diameter.  It 
was  very  pretty  to  look  at,  but  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of 
rendering  surrounding  objects  rather  darker  than  before. 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  large  stone.  Here  Sam 
recommended  his  master  and  Mr.  Winkle  to  seat  themselves, 
while  he  reconnoitred,  and  ascertained  whether  Mary  was 
yet  in  waiting. 

After  an  absence  of  five  or  ten  minutes,  Sam  returned,  to 
say  that  the  gate  was  opened,  and  all  quiet.  Following  him 
with  stealthy  tread,  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr.  Winkle  soon  found 
themselves  in  the  garden.  Here  everybody  said  "  Hush !  "  a 
good  many  times ;  and  that  being  done,  no  one  seemed  to  have 
any  very  distinct  apprehension  of  what  was  to  be  done  next. 

"  Is  Miss  Allen  in  the  garden  yet,  Mary  ? "  inquired  Mr. 
Winkle,  much  agitated. 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  replied  the  pretty  housemaid.  "The 
best  thing  to  be  done,  sir,  will  be  for  Mr.  Weller  to  give  you 
a  hoist  up  into  the  tree,  and  perhaps  Mr.  Pickwick  will  have 
the  goodness  to  see  that  nobody  comes  up  the  lane,  while  I 
watch  at  the  other  end  of  the  garden.  Goodness  gracious, 
what's  that ! " 

"That  'ere  blessed  lantern  'ull  be  the  death  on  us  all,11 
exclaimed  Sam,  peevishly.  "Take  care  wot  you're  a  doin' 
on,  sir;  you're  a  sendin'  a  blaze  o'  light,  right  into  the  back 
.parlor  winder." 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  turning  hastily  aside,  "  I 
didn't  mean  to  do  that." 

"Now,  it's  in  the  next  house,  sir,"  remonstrated  Sam. 

"  Bless  my  heart ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  turning  round 
again. 

"Now,  it's  in  the  stable,  and  they'll  think  the  place  is  a' 
fire,"  said  Sam.  "Shut  it  up,  sir,  can't  you?" 

"  It's  the  most  extraordinary  lantern  I  ever  met  with,  in  all 


MR.  PICKWICK'S  GALLANT  EXERTIONS.     179 

my  life!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  greatly  bewildered  by 
the  effects  he  had  so  unintentionally  produced.  "I  never 
saw  such  a  powerful  reflector. " 

"  It'll  be  vun  too  powerful  for  us,  if  you  keep  blazin'  avay 
in  that  manner,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  as  Mr.  Pickwick,  after 
various  unsuccessful  efforts,  managed  to  close  the  slide. 
"There's  the  young  lady's  footsteps.  Now,  Mr.  Vinkle,  sir, 
up  vith  you." 

"  Stop,  stop ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  must  speak  to  her 
first.  Help  me  up,  Sam." 

"  Gently,  sir,"  said  Sam,  planting  his  head  against  the  wall, 
and  making  a  platform  of  his  back.  "  Step  a  top  o'  that  'ere 
flower-pot,  sir.  Now  then,  up  vith  you." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  shall  hurt  you,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Never  mind  me,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "Lend  him  a  hand, 
Mr.  Vinkle,  sir.  Steady,  sir,  steady !  That's  the  time  o'  day ! " 

As  Sam  spoke,  Mr.  Pickwick,  by  exertions  almost  super- 
natural in  a  gentleman  of  his  years  and  weight,  contrived 
to  get  upon  Sam's  back ;  and  Sam  gently  raising  himself  up, 
and  Mr.  Pickwick  holding  on  fast  by  the  top  of  the  wall, 
while  Mr.  Winkle  clasped  him  tight  by  the  legs,  they 
contrived  by  these  means  to  bring  his  spectacles  just  above 
the  level  of  the  coping. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  over  the  wall,  and 
catching  sight  of  Arabella,  on  the  other  side,  "Don't  be 
frightened,  my  dear,  it's  only  me." 

"  Oh  pray  go  away,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Arabella.  "  Tell 
them  all  to  go  away.  I  am  so  dreadfully  frightened.  Dear, 
dear  Mr.  Pickwick,  don't  stop  there.  You'll  fall  down  and 
kill  yourself,  I  know  you  will." 

"Now,  pray  don't  alarm  yourself,  my  dear,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  soothingly.  "  There  is  not  the  least  cause  for  fear, 
I  assure  you.  Stand  firm,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking 
down. 

"All  right,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Don't  be  longer 
than  you  can  conweniently  help,  sir.  You're  rayther  heavy." 


180  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Only  another  moment,  Sam,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "I 
merely  wished  you  to  know,  my  dear,  that  I  should  not  have 
allowed  my  young  friend  to  see  you  in  this  clandestine  way, 
if  the  situation  in  which  you  are  placed,  had  left  him  any 
alternative ;  and  lest  the  impropriety  of  this  step  should  cause 
you  any  uneasiness,  my  love,  it  may  be  a  satisfaction  to  you, 
to  know  that  I  am  present.  That's  all,  my  dear." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Pickwick,  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
your  kindness  and  consideration,"  replied  Arabella,  drying 
her  tears  with  her  handkerchief.  She  would  probably  have 
said  much  more,  had  not  Mr.  Pickwick's  head  disappeared  with 
great  swiftness,  in  consequence  of  a  false  step  on  Sam's  shoulder, 
which  brought  him  suddenly  to  the  ground.  He  was  up 
again  in  an  instant,  however,  and  bidding  Mr.  Winkle  make 
haste  and  get  the  interview  over,  ran  out  into  the  lane  to 
keep  watch,  with  all  the  courage  and  ardour  of  youth.  Mr. 
Winkle  himself,  inspired  by  the  occasion,  was  on  the  wall  in 
a  moment,  merely  pausing  to  request  Sam  to  be  careful  of 
his  master. 

"HI  take  care  on  him,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "Leave  him 
to  me." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  What's  he  doing,  Sam  ? "  inquired  Mr. 
Winkle. 

"Bless  his  old  gaiters,"  rejoined  Sam,  looking  out  at  the 
garden-door.  "He's  a  keepin'  guard  in  the  lane  vith  that 
'ere  dark  lantern,  like  a  amiable  Guy  Fawkes !  I  never  see 
such  a  fine  creetur  in  my  days.  Blessed  if  I  don't  think  his 
heart  must  ha'  been  born  five-and-twenty  year  arter  his  body, 
at  least  !" 

Mr.  Winkle  stayed  not  to  hear  the  encomium  upon  his 
friend.  He  had  dropped  from  the  wall ;  thrown  himself  at 
Arabella's  feet ;  and  by  this  time  was  pleading  the  sincerity  of 
his  passion  with  an  eloquence  worthy  even  of  Mr.  Pickwick 
himself. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  in  the  open  air,  an  elderly 
gentleman  of  scientific  attainments  was  seated  in  his  library, 


SCIENTIFIC  OBSERVATIONS.  181 

two  or  three  houses  off,  writing  a  philosophical  treatise,  and 
ever  and  anon  moistening  his  clay  and  his  labours  with  a 
glass  of  claret  from  a  venerable-looking  bottle  which  stood 
by  his  side.  In  the  agonies  of  composition,  the  elderly 
gentleman  looked  sometimes  at  the  carpet,  sometimes  at  the 
ceiling,  and  sometimes  at  the  wall ;  and  when  neither  carpet, 
ceiling,  nor  wall,  afforded  the  requisite  degree  of  inspiration, 
he  looked  out  of  the  window. 

In  one  of  these  pauses  of  invention,  the  scientific  gentleman 
was  gazing  abstractedly  on  the  thick  darkness  outside,  when 
he  was  very  much  surprised  by  observing  a  most  brilliant 
light  glide  through  the  air,  at  a  short  distance  above  the 
ground,  and  almost  instantaneously  vanish.  After  a  short 
time  the  phenomenon  was  repeated,  not  once  or  twice,  but 
several  times:  at  last  the  scientific  gentleman,  laying  down 
his  pen,  began  to  consider  to  what  natural  causes  these 
appearances  were  to  be  assigned. 

They  were  not  meteors;  they  were  too  low.  They  were 
not  glow-worms ;  they  were  too  high.  They  were  not  will-o'- 
the-wisps;  they  were  not  fire-flies;  they  were  not  fire- works. 
What  could  they  be?  Some  extraordinary  and  wonderful 
phenomenon  of  nature,  which  no  philosopher  had  ever  seen 
before;  something  which  it  had  been  reserved  for  him  alone 
to  discover,  and  which  he  should  immortalize  his  name  by 
chronicling  for  the  benefit  of  posterity.  Full  of  this  idea, 
the  scientific  gentleman  seized  his  pen  again,  and  committed 
to  paper  sundry  notes  of  these  unparalleled  appearances,  with 
the  date,  day,  hour,  minute,  and  precise  second  at  which  they 
were  visible :  all  of  which  were  to  form  the  data  of  a 
voluminous  treatise  of  great  research  and  deep  learning,  which 
should  astonish  all  the  atmospherical  sages  that  ever  drew 
breath  in  any  part  of  the  civilised  globe. 

He  threw  himself  back  in  his  easy  chair,  wrapped  in 
contemplations  of  his  future  greatness.  The  mysterious 
light  appeared  more  brilliantly  than  before:  dancing,  to 
all  appearance,  up  and  down  the  lane,  crossing  from  side 


182  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

to  side,  and  moving  in  an  orbit  as  eccentric  as  comets 
themselves. 

The  scientific  gentleman  was  a  bachelor.  He  had  no  wife 
to  call  in  and  astonish,  so  he  rang  the  bell  for  his  servant. 

"  Pruffle,"  said  the  scientific  gentleman,  "  there  is  something 
very  extraordinary  in  the  air  to-night.  Did  you  see  that?" 
said  the  scientific  gentleman,  pointing  out  of  the  window,  as 
the  light  again  became  visible. 

"Yes,  I  did,  sir." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Pruffle?" 

"Think  of  it,  sir?" 

"Yes.  You  have  been  bred  up  in  this  country.  What 
should  you  say  was  the  cause  of  those  lights,  now  ? " 

The  scientific  gentleman  smilingly  anticipated  PrufiVs 
reply  that  he  could  assign  no  cause  for  them  at  all.  Pruffle 
meditated. 

"I  should  say  it  was  thieves,  sir,"  said  Pruffle  at  length. 

"  You're  a  fool,  and  may  go  down  stairs,"  said  the  scientific 
gentleman. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pruffle.     And  down  he  went. 

But  the  scientific  gentleman  could  not  rest  under  the  idea 
of  the  ingenious  treatise  he  had  projected  being  lost  to  the 
world,  which  must  inevitably  be  the  case  if  the  speculation 
of  the  ingenious  Mr.  Pruffle  were  not  stifled  in  its  birth. 
He  put  on  his  hat  and  walked  quickly  down  the  garden, 
determined  to  investigate  the  matter  to  the  very  bottom. 

Now,  shortly  before  the  scientific  gentleman  walked  out 
into  the  garden,  Mr.  Pickwick  had  ran  down  the  lane  as  fast 
as  he  could,  to  convey  a  false  alarm  that  somebody  was 
coming  that  way ;  occasionally  drawing  back  the  slide  of  the 
dark  lantern  to  keep  himself  from  the  ditch.  The  alarm 
was  no  sooner  given,  than  Mr.  Winkle  scrambled  back  over 
the  wall,  and  Arabella  ran  into  the  house ;  the  garden-gate 
was  shut,  and  the  three  adventurers  were  making  the  best  of 
their  way  down  the  lane,  when  they  were  startled  by  the 
scientific  gentleman  unlocking  his  garden-gate. 


MR.  WELLER'S  DEXTEROUS  FEAT.         183 

"  Hold  hard,1'  whispered  Sam,  who  was,  of  course,  the  first 
of  the  party.  "  Show  a  light  for  just  vun  second,  sir." 

Mr.  Pickwick  did  as  he  was  desired,  and  Sam,  seeing  a 
man's  head  peeping  out  very  cautiously  within  half-a-yard  of 
his  own,  gave  it  a  gentle  tap  with  his  clenched  fist,  which 
knocked  it,  with  a  hollow  sound,  against  the  gate.  Having 
performed  this  feat  with  great  suddenness  and  dexterity,  Mr. 
Weller  caught  Mr.  Pickwick  up  on  his  back,  and  followed 
Mr.  Winkle  down  the  lane  at  a  pace  which,  considering  the 
burden  he  carried,  was  perfectly  astonishing. 

"  Have  you  got  your  vind  back  agin,  sir,"  inquired  Sam, 
when  they  had  reached  the  end. 

"  Quite.     Quite,  now,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Then  come  along,  sir,"  said  Sam,  setting  his  master  on  his 
feet  again.  "Come  betveen  us,  sir.  Not  half  a  mile  to 
run.  Think  you're  vinnin  a  cup,  sir.  Now  for  it." 

Thus  encouraged,  Mr.  Pickwick  made  the  very  best  use  of 
his  legs.  It  may  be  confidently  stated  that  a  pair  of  black 
gaiters  never  got  over  the  ground  in  better  style  than  did 
those  of  Mr.  Pickwick  on  this  memorable  occasion. 

The  coach  was  waiting,  the  horses  were  fresh,  the  roads 
were  good,  and  the  driver  was  willing.  The  whole  party 
arrived  in  safety  at  the  Bush  before  Mr.  Pickwick  recovered 
his  breath. 

"  In  with  you  at  once,  sir,"  said  Sam,  as  he  helped  his 
master  out.  "Don't  stop  a  second  in  the  street,  arter  that 
'ere  exercise.  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  continued  Sam,  touching 
his  hat  as  Mr.  Winkle  descended.  "Hope  there  warn't  a 
priory  'tachment,  sir?" 

Mr.  Winkle  grasped  his  humble  friend  by  the  hand,  and 
whispered  in  his  car,  "It's  all  right,  Sam;  quite  right." 
Upon  which  Mr.  Weller  struck  three  distinct  blows  upon  his 
nose  in  token  of  intelligence,  smiled,  winked,  and  proceeded  to 
put  the  steps  up,  with  a  countenance  expressive  of  lively 
satisfaction. 

As   to   the   scientific   gentleman,   he   demonstrated,  in   a 


184-  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

masterly  treatise,  that  these  wonderful  lights  were  the  effect 
of  electricity;  and  clearly  proved  the  same  by  detailing  how 
a  flash  of  fire  danced  before  his  eyes  when  he  put  his  head 
out  of  the  gate,  and  how  he  received  a  shock  which  stunned 
him  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards ;  which  demonstration 
delighted  all  the  Scientific  Associations  beyond  measure,  and 
caused  him  to  be  considered  a  light  of  science  ever  afterwards. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

INTRODUCES    MR.    PICKWICK    TO    A    NEW    AND    NOT    UNINTERESTING 
SCENE    IN   THE   GREAT   DRAMA   OF   LIFE. 

THE  remainder  of  the  period  which  Mr.  Pickwick  had 
assigned  as  the  duration  of  the  stay  at  Bath,  passed  over 
without  the  occurrence  of  anything  material.  Trinity  Term 
commenced.  On  the  expiration  of  its  first  week,  Mr.  Pickwick 
and  his  friends  returned  to  London ;  and  the  former  gentleman, 
attended  of  course  by  Sam,  straightway  repaired  to  his  old 
quarters  at  the  George  and  Vulture. 

On  the  third  morning  after  their  arrival,  just  as  all  the 
clocks  in  the  city  were  striking  nine  individually,  and  some- 
where about  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  collectively,  Sam 
was  taking  the  air  in  George  Yard,  when  a  queer  sort  of  fresh 
painted  vehicle  drove  up,  out  of  which  there  jumped  with 
great  agility,  throwing  the  reins  to  a  stout  man  who  sat 
beside  him,  a  queer  sort  of  gentleman,  who  seemed  made  for 
the  vehicle,  and  the  vehicle  for  him. 

The  vehicle  was  not  exactly  a  gig,  neither  was  it  a  stanhope. 
It  was  not  what  is  currently  denominated  a  dog-cart,  neither 
was  a  taxed-cart,  nor  a  chaise-cart,  nor  a  guillotined  cabriolet ; 
and  yet  it  had  something  of  the  character  of  each  and  every 
of  these  machines.  It  was  painted  a  bright  yellow,  with 
the  shafts  and  wheels  picked  out  in  black;  and  the  driver 
sat,  in  the  orthodox  sporting  style,  on  cushions  piled  about 


186  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

two  feet  above  the  rail.  The  horse  was  a  bay,  a  well-looking 
animal  enough ;  but  with  something  of  a  flash  and  dog-fighting 
air  about  him,  nevertheless,  which  accorded  both  with  the 
vehicle  and  his  master. 

The  master  himself  was  a  man  of  about  forty,  with  black 
hair,  and  carefully  combed  whiskers.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
particularly  gorgeous  manner,  with  plenty  of  articles  of 
jewellery  about  him — all  about  three  sizes  larger  than  those 
which  are  usually  worn  by  gentlemen — and  a  rough  great-coat 
to  crown  the  whole.  Into  one  pocket  of  this  great-coat,  he 
thrust  his  left  hand  the  moment  he  dismounted,  while  from 
the  other  he  drew  forth,  with  his  right,  a  very  bright  and 
glaring  silk  handkerchief,  with  which  he  wisked  a  speck  or 
two  of  dust  from  his  boots,  and  then,  crumbling  it  in  his 
hand,  swaggered  up  the  court. 

It  had  not  escaped  Sam's  attention  that,  when  this  person 
dismounted,  a  shabby-looking  man  in  a  brown  great-coat 
shom  of  divers  buttons,  who  had  been  previously  slinking 
about,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  crossed  over,  and 
remained  stationary  close  by.  Having  something  more  than 
a  suspicion  of  the  object  of  the  gentleman's  visit,  Sam  preceded 
him  to  the  George  and  Vulture,  and,  turning  sharp  round, 
planted  himself  in  the  centre  of  the  doorway. 

"  Now,  my  fine  fellow ! "  said  the  man  in  the  rough  coat, 
in  an  imperious  tone,  attempting  at  the  same  time  to  push 
his  way  past. 

"  Now,  sir,  wot's  the  matter ! "  replied  Sam,  returning  the 
push  with  compound  interest. 

"Come,  none  of  this,  my  man;  this  won't  do  with  me," 
said  the  owner  of  the  rough  coat,  raising  his  voice,  and 
turning  white.  "  Here,  Smouch ! " 

"Well,  wot's  amiss  here?"  growled  the  man  in  the  brown 
coat,  who  had  been  gradually  sneaking  up  the  court  during 
this  short  dialogue. 

"  Only  some  insolence  of  this  young  man's,"  said  the 
principal,  giving  Sam  another  push. 


-AN  EARLY  VISITOR.  187 

"Come,  none  o'  this  gammon,""  growled  Smouch,  giving 
him  another,  and  a  harder  one. 

This  last  push  had  the  effect  which  it  was  intended  by  the 
experienced  Mr.  Smouch  to  produce;  for  while  Sam,  anxious 
to  return  the  compliment,  was  grinding  that  gentleman's  body 
against  the  doorpost,  the  principal  crept  past,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  bar :  whither  Sam,  after  bandying  a  few  epithetical 
remarks  with  Mr.  Smouch,  followed  at  once. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear,"  said  the  principal,  addressing  the 
young  lady  at  the  bar,  with  Botany  Bay  ease,  and  New  South 
Wales  gentility ;  "  which  is  Mr.  Pickwick's  room,  my  dear  ?  " 

"Show  him  up,"  said  the  bar-maid  to  a  waiter,  without 
deigning  another  look  at  the  exquisite,  in  reply  to  his  inquiry. 

The  waiter  led  the  way  up  stairs  as  he  was  desired,  and 
the  man  in  the  rough  coat  followed,  with  Sam  behind  him : 
who,  in  his  progress  up  the  staircase,  indulged  in  sundry 
gestures  indicative  of  supreme  contempt  and  defiance :  to  the 
unspeakable  gratification  of  the  servants  and  other  lookers-on. 
Mr.  Smouch,  who  was  troubled  with  a  hoarse  cough,  remained 
below,  and  expectorated  in  the  passage. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  fast  asleep  in  bed,  when  his  early  visitor, 
followed  by  Sam,  entered  the  room.  The  noise  they  made, 
in  so  doing,  awoke  him. 

"Shaving  water,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  from  within 
the  curtains. 

"Shave  you  directly,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  the  visitor, 
drawing  one  of  them  back  from  the  bed's  head.  "  I've  got 
an  execution  against  you,  at  the  suit  of  Bardell. — Here's  the 
warrant. — Common  Pleas. — Here's  my  card.  I  suppose  you'll 
come  over  to  my  house."  Giving  Mr.  Pickwick  a  friendly  tap 
on  the  shoulder,  the  sheriff's  officer  (for  such  he  was)  threw 
his  card  on  the  counterpane,  and  pulled  a  gold  toothpick 
from  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"  Namby's  the  name,"  said  the  sheriffs  deputy,  as  Mr.  Pick- 
wick took  his  spectacles  from  under  the  pillow,  and  put  them 
on,  to  read  the  card.  "  Namby,  Bell  Alley,  Coleman  Street." 


188  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

At  this  point,  Sam  Weller,  who  had  had  his  eyes  fixed 
hitherto  on  Mr.  Namby's  shining  beaver,  interfered: 

"Are  you  a  Quaker?"  said  Sam. 

"  Til  let  you  know  who  I  am,  before  IVe  done  with  you," 
replied  the  indignant  officer.  'Til  teach  you  manners,  my 
fine  fellow,  one  of  these  fine  mornings." 

"Thankee,"  said  Sam.  "I'll  do  the  same  to  you.  Take 
your  hat  off."  With  this,  Mr.  Weller,  in  the  most  dexterous 
manner,  knocked  Mr.  Namby's  hat  to  the  other  side  of  the 
room :  with  such  violence,  that  he  had  very  nearly  caused  him 
to  swallow  the  gold  tooth-pick  into  the  bargain. 

"Observe  this,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  the  disconcerted  officer, 
gasping  for  breath.  "IVe  been  assaulted  in  the  execution  of 
my  dooty  by  your  servant  in  your  chamber.  Tm  in  bodily 
fear.  I  call  you  to  witness  this." 

"Don't  witness  nothin',  sir,"  interposed  Sam.  "Shut  your 
eyes  up  tight,  sir.  I'd  pitch  him  out  o1  winder,  only  he 
couldn't  fall  far  enough,  'cause  o'  the  leads  outside." 

"  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  in  an  angry  voice,  as  his  attendant 
made  various  demonstrations  of  hostilities,  "  if  you  say  another 
word,  or  offer  the  slightest  interference  with  this  person,  I 
discharge  you  that  instant." 

"  But,  sir ! "  said  Sam. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  interposed  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Take 
that  hat  up  again." 

But  this  Sam  flatly  and  positively  refused  to  do;  and, 
after  he  had  been  severely  reprimanded  by  his  master,  the 
officer,  being  in  a  hurry,  condescended  to  pick  it  up  himself: 
venting  a  great  variety  of  threats  against  Sam  meanwhile, 
which  that  gentleman  received  with  perfect  composure :  merely 
observing  that  if  Mr.  Namby  would  have  the  goodness  to  put 
his  hat  on  again,  he  would  knock  it  into  the  latter  end  of 
next  week.  Mr.  Namby,  perhaps  thinking  that  such  a  process 
might  be  productive  of  inconvenience  to  himself,  declined  to 
offer  the  temptation,  and,  soon  after,  called  up  Smouch. 
Having  informed  him  that  the  capture  was  made,  and  that 


NAMBY'S  COFFEE  ROOM.  189 

he  was  to  wait  for  the  prisoner  until  he  should  have  finished 
dressing,  Namby  then  swaggered  out,  and  drove  away. 
Smouch,  requesting  Mr.  Pickwick  in  a  surly  manner  "to  be 
as  alive  as  he  could,  for  it  was  a  busy  time,"  drew  up  a 
chair  by  the  door,  and  sat  there,  until  he  had  finished  dressing. 
Sam  was  then  dispatched  for  a  hackney  coach,  and  in  it  the 
triumvirate  proceeded  to  Coleman  Street.  It  was  fortunate 
the  distance  was  short;  for  Mr.  Smouch,  besides  possessing 
no  very  enchanting  conversational  powers,  was  rendered  a 
decidedly  unpleasant  companion  in  a  limited  space,  by  the 
physical  weakness  to  which  we  have  elsewhere  adverted. 

The  coach  having  turned  into  a  very  narrow  and  dark 
street,  stopped  before  a  house  with  iron  bars  to  all  the 
windows;  the  door-posts  of  which  were  graced  by  the  name 
and  title  of  "Namby,  Officer  to  the  Sheriffs  of  London:" 
the  inner  gate  having  been  opened  by  a  gentleman  who  might 
have  passed  for  a  neglected  twin  brother  of  Mr.  Smouch,  and 
who  was  endowed  with  a  large  key  for  the  purpose,  Mr. 
Pickwick  was  shown  into  the  "coffee-room." 

This  coffee-room  was  a  front  parlour :  the  principal  features 
of  which  were  fresh  sand  and  stale  tobacco  smoke.  Mr. 
Pickwick  bowed  to  the  three  persons  who  were  seated  in  it 
when  he  entered ;  and  having  dispatched  Sam  for  Perker, 
withdrew  into  an  obscure  corner,  and  from  thence  looked  with 
some  curiosity  upon  his  new  companions. 

One  of  these  was  a  mere  boy  of  nineteen  or  twenty,  who, 
though  it  was  yet  barely  ten  o'clock,  was  drinking  gin  and 
water,  and  smoking  a  cigar:  amusements  to  which,  judging  from 
his  inflamed  countenance,  he  had  devoted  himself  pretty  con- 
stantly for  the  last  year  or  two  of  his  life.  Opposite  him, 
engaged  in  stirring  the  fire  with  the  toe  of  his  right  boot, 
was  a  coarse  vulgar  young  man  of  about  thirty,  with  a  sallow 
face  and  harsh  voice :  evidently  possessed  of  that  knowledge 
of  the  world,  and  captivating  freedom  of  manner,  which 
is  to  be  acquired  in  public-house  parlours,  and  at  low 
billiard-tables.  The  third  tenant  of  the  apartment  was  a 


190  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

middle-aged  man  in  a  very  old  suit  of  black,  who  looked  pale 
and  haggard,  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room  incessantly ; 
stopping,  now  and  then,  to  look  with  great  anxiety  out  of 
the  window  as  if  he  expected  somebody,  and  then  resuming 
his  walk. 

"You'd  better  have  the  loan  of  my  razor  this  morning, 
Mr.  Ayresleigh,"  said  the  man  who  was  stirring  the  fire, 
tipping  the  wink  to  his  friend  the  boy. 

"Thank  you,  no,  I  shan't  want  it;  I  expect  I  shall  be 
out,  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or  so,""  replied  the  other  in  a 
hurried  manner.  Then,  walking  again  up  to  the  window, 
and  once  more  returning  disappointed,  he  sighed  deeply, 
and  left  the  room;  upon  which  the  other  two  burst  into  a 
loud  laugh. 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  such  a  game  as  that,"  said  the  gentleman 
who  had  offered  the  razor,  whose  name  appeared  to  be  Price. 
"Never!11  Mr.  Price  confirmed  the  assertion  with  an  oath, 
and  then  laughed  again,  when  of  course  the  boy  (who  thought 
his  companion  one  of  the  most  dashing  fellows  alive)  laughed 
also. 

"  You'd  hardly  think,  would  you  now,"  said  Price,  turning 
towards  Mr.  Pickwick,  "that  that  chap's  been  here  a  week 
yesterday,  and  never  once  shaved  himself  yet,  because  he  feels 
so  certain  he's  going  out  in  half  an  hour's  time,  that  he  thinks 
he  may  as  well  put  it  off  till  he  gets  home  ? " 

"  Poor  man ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Are  his  chances  of 
getting  out  of  his  difficulties  really  so  great  ? " 

"  Chances  be  d— d,"  replied  Price ;  "  he  hasn't  half  the  ghost 
of  one.  I  wouldn't  give  that  for  his  chance  of  walking  about 
the  streets  this  time  ten  years."  With  this  Mr.  Price  snapped 
his  fingers  contemptuously,  and  rang  the  bell. 

"  Give  me  a  sheet  of  paper,  Crookey,"  said  Mr.  Price  to  the 
attendant,  who  in  dress  and  general  appearance  looked  some- 
thing between  a  bankrupt  grazier,  and  a  drover  in  a  state  of 
insolvency ;  "  and  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water,  Crookey,  d'ye 
hear  ?  I'm  going  to  write  to  my  father,  and  I  must  have  a 


MR.  PICKWICK'S  FELLOW  GUESTS.         191 

stimulant,  or  I  shan't  be  able  to  pitch  it  strong  enough  into 
the  old  boy."  At  this  facetious  speech,  the  young  boy,  it 
is  almost  needless  to  say,  was  fairly  convulsed. 

"That's  right,"  said  Mr.  Price.  "Never  say  die*  All 
fun,  ain't  it?" 

"  Prime  ! "  said  the  young  gentleman. 

"You've  some  spirit  about  you,  you  have,"  said  Price. 
"  You've  seen  something  of  life." 

**  I  rather  think  I  have ! "  replied  the  boy.  He  had  looked 
at  it  through  the  dirty  panes  of  glass  in  a  bar  door. 

Mr.  Pickwick  feeling  not  a  little  disgusted  with  this  dialogue, 
as  well  as  with  the  air  and  manner  of  the  two  beings  by 
whom  it  had  been  carried  on,  was  about  to  inquire  whether 
he  could  not  be  accommodated  with  a  private  sitting-room, 
when  two  or  three  strangers  of  genteel  appearance  entered, 
at  sight  of  whom  the  boy  threw  his  cigar  into  the  fire,  and 
whispering  to  Mr.  Price  that,  they  had  come  to  "  make  it  all 
right"  for  him,  joined  them  at  a  table  in  the  further  end  of 
the  room. 

It  would  appear,  however,  that  matters  were  not  going  to 
be  made  all  right  quite  so  speedily  as  the  young  gentleman 
anticipated;  for  a  very  long  conversation  ensued,  of  which 
Mr.  Pickwick  could  not  avoid  hearing  certain  angry  fragments 
regarding  dissolute  conduct,  and  repeated  forgiveness.  At 
last,  there  were  very  distinct  allusions  made  by  the  oldest 
gentleman  of  the  party  to  one  Whitecross  Street,  at  which 
the  young  gentleman,  notwithstanding  his  primeness  and  his 
spirit  and  his  knowledge  of  life  into  the  bargain,  reclined  his 
head  upon  the  table,  and  howled  dismally. 

Very  much  satisfied  with  this  sudden  bringing  down  of  the 
youth's  valour,  and  this  effectual  lowering  of  his  tone,  Mr. 
Pickwick  rang  the  bell,  and  was  shown,  at  his  own  request, 
into  a  private  room  furnished  with  a  carpet,  table,  chairs, 
sideboard  and  sofa,  and  ornamented  with  a  looking-glass,  and 
various  old  prints.  Here,  he  had  the  advantage  of  hearing 
Mrs.  ISfamby's  prformance  on  a  square  piano  over  head,  while 


192  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  breakfast  was  getting  ready;  when  it  came,  Mr.  Perker 
came  too. 

"Aha,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  little  man,  "nailed  at  last, 
eh?  Come,  come,  Pm  not  sorry  for  it  either,  because  now 
you'll  see  the  absurdity  of  this  conduct.  I've  noted  down  the 
amount  of  the  taxed  costs  and  damages  for  which  the  ca-sa 
was  issued,  and  we  had  better  settle  at  once  and  lose  no  time. 
Namby  is  come  home  by  this  time,  I  dare  say.  What  say 
you,  my  dear  sir  ?  Shall  I  draw  a  cheque,  or  will  you  ? " 
The  little  man  rubbed  his  hands  with  affected  cheerfulness  as 
he  said  this,  but  glancing  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  countenance,  could 
not  forbear  at  the  same  time  casting  a  desponding  look  towards 
Sam  Weller. 

"Perker,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "let  me  hear  no  more  of 
this,  I  beg.  I  see  no  advantage  in  staying  here,  so  I  shall 
go  to  prison  to-night." 

"You  can't  go  to  Whitecross  Street,  my  dear  sir,"  said 
Perker.  "  Impossible  !  There  are  sixty  beds  in  a  ward ;  and 
the  bolt's  on,  sixteen  hours  out  of  the  four-and-twenty." 

"  I  would  rather  go  to  some  other  place  of  confinement  if 
I  can,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  If  not,  I  must  make  the  best  I 
can  of  that." 

"  You  can  go  to  the  Fleet,  my  dear  sir,  if  you're  determined 
to  go  somewhere,"  said  Perker. 

"That'll  do,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "I'll  go  there  directly 
I  have  finished  my  breakfast." 

"  Stop,  stop,  my  dear  sir ;  not  the  least  occasion  for  being 
in  such  a  violent  hurry  to  get  into  a  place  that  most  other 
men  are  as  eager  to  get  out  of,"  said  the  good-natured  little 
attorney.  "  We  must  have  a  habeas  corpus.  There'll  be  no 
judge  at  chambers  till  four  o'clock  this  afternoon.  You  must 
wait  till  then." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  unmoved  patience. 
"  Then  we  will  have  a  chop,  here,  at  two.  See  about  it,  Sam, 
and  tell  them  to  be  punctual. 

Mr.  Pickwick  remaining  firm,  despite  all  the  remonstrances 


MYSTERIOUS   STRANGERS.  193 

and  arguments  of  Perker,  the  chops  appeared  and  disappeared 
in  due  course ;  he  was  then  put  into  another  hackney-coach, 
and  carried  off  to  Chancery  Lane,  after  waiting  half  an  hour 
or  so  for  Mr.  Namby,  who  had  a  select  dinner-party  and 
could  on  no  account  be  disturbed  before. 

There  were  two  judges  in  attendance  at  Sergeant's  Inn — one 
King's  Bench,  and  one  Common  Pleas — and  a  great  deal  of 
business  appeared  to  be  transacting  before  them,  if  the  number 
of  lawyer's  clerks  who  were  hurrying  in  and  out  with  bundles 
of  papers,  afforded  any  test.  When  they  reached  the  low 
*  archway  which  forms  the  entrance  to  the  Inn,  Perker  was 
detained  a  few  moments  parleying  with  the  coachman  about 
the  fare  and  the  change ;  and  Mr.  Pickwick,  stepping  to 
one  side  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  the  stream  of  people  that 
were  pouring  in  and  out,  looked  about  him  with  some  curiosity. 

The  people  that  attracted  his  attention  most,  were  three 
or  four  men  of  shabby-genteel  appearance,  who  touched  their 
hats  to  many  of  the  attorneys  who  passed,  and  seemed  to 
have  some  business  there,  the  nature  of  which  Mr.  Pickwick 
could  not  divine.  They  were  curious-looking  fellows.  One, 
was  a  slim  and  rather  lame  man  in  rusty  black,  and  a  white 
neckerchief;  another,  was  a  stout  burly  person,  dressed  in  the 
same  apparel,  with  a  great  reddish-black  cloth  round  his  neck ; 
a  third,  was  a  little  weazen  drunken-looking  body,  with  a 
pimply  face.  They  were  loitering  about,  with  their  hands 
behind  them,  and  now  and  then  with  an  anxious  countenance 
whispered  something  in  the  ear  of  some  of  the  gentlemen 
with  papers,  as  they  hurried  by.  Mr.  Pickwick  remembered 
to  have  very  often  observed  them  lounging  under  the  archway 
when  he  had  been  walking  past ;  and  his  curiosity  was  quite 
excited  to  know  to  what  branch  of  the  profession  these 
dingy-looking  loungers  could  possibly  belong. 

He  was  about  to  propound  the  question  to  Namby,  who 
kept  close  beside  him,  sucking  a  large  gold  ring  on  his  little 
finger,  when  Perker  bustled  up,  and  observing  that  there  was 
no  time  to  lose,  led  the  way  into  the  Inn.  As  Mr.  Pickwick 

VOL.    II.  O 


194  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

followed,  the  lame  man  stepped  up  to  him,  and  civilly  touching 
his  hat,  held  out  a  written  card,  which  Mr.  Pickwick,  not 
wishing  to  hurt  the  man's  feelings  by  refusing,  courteously 
accepted  and  deposited  in  his  waistcoat-pocket. 

"Now,11  said  Perker,  turning  round  before  he  entered  one 
of  the  offices,  to  see  that  his  companions  were  close  behind 
him.  "  In  here,  my  dear  sir.  Hallo,  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

This  last  question  was  addressed  to  the  lame  man,  who, 
unobserved  by  Mr.  Pickwick,  made  one  of  the  party.  In 
reply  to  it,  the  lame  man  touched  his  hat  again,  with  all 
imaginable  politeness,  and  motioned  towards  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  No,  no,11  said  Perker  with  a  smile.  "  We  don't  want  you, 
my  dear  friend,  we  don't  want  you.11 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,11  said  the  lame  man.  "The 
gentleman  took  my  card.  I  hope  you  will  employ  me,  sir. 
The  gentleman  nodded  to  me.  Pll  be  judged  by  the  gentleman 
himself.  You  nodded  to  me,  sir?11 

"Pooh,  pooh,  nonsense.  You  didn't  nod  to  any  body, 
Pickwick  ?  A  mistake,  a  mistake,11  said  Perker. 

"The  gentleman  handed  me  his  card,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick, 
producing  it  from  his  waistcoat-pocket.  "  I  accepted  it,  as  the 
gentleman  seemed  to  wish  it — in  fact  I  had  some  curiosity 
to  look  at  it  when  I  should  be  at  leisure.  I " 

The  little  attorney  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  returning 
the  card  to  the  lame  man,  informing  him  it  was  all  a 
mistake,  whispered  to  Mr.  Pickwick  as  the  man  turned  away 
in  dudgeon,  that  he  was  only  a  bail. 

"  A  what ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"A  bail!11  replied  Perker. 

« A  bail!" 

"Yes,  my  dear  sir — half  a  dozen  of  ""em  here.  Bail  you 
to  any  amount,  and  only  charge  half-a-crown.  Curious 
trade,  isn't  it?11  said  Perker,  regaling  himself  with  a  pinch 
of  snuff. 

"  What !  Am  I  to  understand  that  these  men  earn  a 
livelihood  by  waiting  about  here,  to  perjure  themselves  before 


A  BUSY  SCENE.  195 

the  judges  of  the  land,  at  the  rate  of  half-a-crown  a  crime !" 
exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  quite  aghast  at  the  disclosure. 

"  Why,  I  don't  exactly  know  about  perjury,  my  dear  sir," 
replied  the  little  gentleman.  "  Harsh  word,  my  dear  sir, 
very  harsh  word  indeed.  It's  a  legal  fiction,  my  dear  sir, 
nothing  more.1'  Saying  which,  the  attorney  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  smiled,  took  a  second  pinch  of  snuff,  and  led  the 
way  into  the  office  of  the  judge's  clerk. 

This  was  a  room  of  specially  dirty  appearance,  with  a  very 
low  ceiling  and  old  panelled  walls ;  and  so  badly  lighted,  that 
although  it  was  broad  day  outside,  great  tallow  candles  were 
burning  on  the  desks.  At  one  end,  was  a  door  leading  to 
the  judge's  private  apartment,  round  which  were  congregated 
a  crowd  of  attorneys  and  managing  clerks,  who  were  called 
in,  in  the  order  in  which  their  respective  appointments  stood 
upon  the  file.  Every  time  this  door  was  opened  to  let  a  party 
out,  the  next  party  made  a  violent  rush  to  get  in ;  and,  as 
in  addition  to  the  numerous  dialogues  which  passed  between 
the  gentlemen  who  were  waiting  to  see  the  judge,  a  variety 
of  personal  squabbles  ensued  between  the  greater  part  of  those 
who  had  seen  him,  there  was  as  much  noise  as  could  well  be 
raised  in  an  apartment  of  such  confined  dimensions. 

Nor  were  the  conversations  of  these  gentlemen  the  only 
sounds  that  broke  upon  the  ear.  Standing  on  a  box  behind  a 
wooden  bar  at  another  end  of  the  room,  was  a  clerk  in 
spectacles,  who  was  "  taking  the  affidavits : "  large  batches  of 
which  were,  from  time  to  time,  carried  into  the  private  room 
by  another  clerk  for  the  judge's  signature.  There  were  a 
large  number  of  attorneys'  clerks  to  be  sworn,  and  it  being  a 
moral  impossibility  to  swear  them  all  at  once,  the  struggles 
of  these  gentlemen  to  reach  the  clerk  in  spectacles,  were  like 
those  of  a  crowd  to  get  in  at  the  pit  door  of  a  theatre  when 
Gracious  Majesty  honours  it  with  its  presence.  Another 
functionary,  from  time  to  time,  exercised  his  lungs  in  calling 
over  the  names  of  those  who  had  been  sworn,  for  the  purpose 
pf  restoring  to  them  their  affidavits  after  they  had  been  signed 


196  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

by  the  judge :  which  gave  rise  to  a  few  more  scuffles ;  and  all 
these  things  going  on  at  the  same  time,  occasioned  as  much 
bustle  as  the  most  active  and  excitable  person  could  desire 
to  behold.  There  were  yet  another  class  of  persons — those  who 
were  waiting  to  attend  summonses  their  employers  had  taken 
out,  which  it  was  optional  to  the  attorney  on  the  opposite 
side  to  attend  or  not — and  whose  business  it  was,  from  time 
to  time,  to  cry  out  the  opposite  attorney's  name;  to  make 
certain  that  he  was  not  in  attendance  without  their  knowledge. 

For  example.  Leaning  against  the  wall,  close  beside  the  seat 
Mr.  Pickwick  had  taken,  was  an  office-lad  of  fourteen,  with  a 
tenor  voice ;  near  him,  a  common-law  clerk  with  a  bass  one. 

A  clerk  hurried  in  with  a  bundle  of  papers,  and  stared 
about  him. 

"  Sniggle  and  Blink,""  cried  the  tenor. 

"  Porkin  and  Snob,1"  growled  the  bass. 

"Stumpy  and  Deacon,"  said  the  new  comer. 

Nobody  answered ;  the  next  man  who  came  in,  was  hailed 
by  the  whole  three ;  and  he  in  his  turn  shouted  for  another 
firm ;  and  then  somebody  else  roared  in  a  loud  voice  for 
another;  and  so  forth. 

All  this  time,  the  man  in  the  spectacles  was  hard  at  work, 
swearing  the  clerks :  the  oath  being  invariably  administered, 
without  any  effort  at  punctuation,  and  usually  in  the  follow* 
ing  terms : 

"Take  the  book  in  your  right  hand  this  is  your  name  and 
hand- writing  you  swear  that  the  contents  of  this  your 
affidavit  are  true  so  help  you  God  a  shilling  you  must  get 
change  I  haven't  got  it." 

"Well,  Sam,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "I  suppose  they  are 
getting  the  habeas  corpus  ready." 

"  Yes,11  said  Sam,  "  and  I  vish  they'd  bring  out  the  have- 
his-carcase.  It's  wery  unpleasant  keepin1  us  vaitin'  here. 
Td  ha1  got  half  a  dozen  have-his-carcases  ready,  pack'd  up 
and  all,  by  this  time.11 

What  sort  of  cumbrous  and  unmanageable  machine,  Sam, 


TO  PRISON.  107 

Wellcr  imagined  a  habeas  corpus  to  be,  does  not  appear; 
for  Perker,  at  that  moment,  walked  up,  and  took  Mr.  Pick- 
wick away. 

The  usual  forms  having  been  gone  through,  the  body  of 
Samuel  Pickwick  was  soon  afterwards  confided  to  the  custody 
of  the  tipstaff,  to  be  by  him  taken  to  the  Warden  of  the 
Fleet  Prison,  and  there  detained  until  the  amount  of  the 
damages  and  costs  in  the  action  of  Bardell  against  Pickwick 
was  fully  paid  and  satisfied. 

"  And  that,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  laughing,  "  will  be  a  very 
long  time.  Sam,  call  another  hackney-coach.  Perker,  my 
dear  friend,  good  bye."" 

"  I  shall  go  with  you,  and  see  you  safe  there,"  said  Perker. 

"  Indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  would  rather  go  with- 
out any  other  attendant  than  Sam.  As  soon  as  I  get  settled, 
I  will  write  and  let  you  know,  and  I  shall  expect  you  imme- 
diately. Until  then,  good  bye." 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  said  this,  he  got  into  the  coach  which 
had  by  this  time  arrived :  followed  by  the  tipstaff.  Sam 
having  stationed  himself  on  the  box,  it  rolled  away. 

"A  most  extraordinary  man  that!"  said  Perker,  as  he 
stopped  to  pull  on  his  gloves. 

"What  a  bankrupt  he'd  make,  sir,"  observed  Mr.  Lowten, 
who  was  standing  near.  ''How  he  would  bother  the  com- 
missioners !  He'd  set  'em  at  defiance  if  they  talked  of  com- 
mitting him,  sir." 

The  attorney  did  not  appear  very  much  delighted  with  his 
clerk's  professional  estimate  of  Mr.  Pickwick's  character,  for 
he  walked  away  without  deigning  any  reply. 

The  hackney-coach  jolted  along  Fleet  Street,  as  hackney- 
coaches  usually  do.  The  horses  "went  better,"  the  driver 
said,  when  they  had  anything  before  them,  (they  must  have 
gone  at  a  most  extraordinary  pace  when  there  was  nothing,) 
and  so  the  vehicle  kept  behind  a  cart ;  when  the  cart  stopped, 
it  stopped ;  and  when  the  cart  went  on  again,  it  did  the 
same.  Mr.  Pickwick  sat  opposite  the  tipstaff;  and  the 


198  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

tipstaff  sat  with  his  hat  between  his  knees,  whistling  a  tune, 
and  looking  out  of  the  coach  window. 

Time  performs  wonders.  By  the  powerful  old  gentleman's 
aid,  even  a  hackney-coach  gets  over  half  a  mile  of  ground. 
They  stopped  at  length,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  alighted  at  the 
gate  of  the  Fleet. 

The  tipstaff,  looking  over  his  shoulder  to  see  that  his  charge 
was  following  close  at  his  heels,  preceded  Mr.  Pickwick  into 
the  prison ;  turning  to  the  left,  after  they  had  entered,  they 
passed  through  an  open  door  into  a  lobby,  from  which  a 
heavy  gate :  opposite  to  that  by  which  they  had  entered,  and 
which  was  guarded  by  a  stout  turnkey  with  the  key  in  his 
hand :  led  at  once  into  the  interior  of  the  prison. 

Here  they  stopped,  while  the  tipstaff  delivered  his  papers ; 
and  here  Mr.  Pickwick  was  apprised  that  he  would  remain, 
until  he  had  undergone  the  ceremony,  known  to  the  initiated 
as  "sitting  for  your  portrait.1" 

"  Sitting  for  my  portrait ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Having  your  likeness  taken,  sir,"  replied  the  stout  turnkey. 
"  We're  capital  hands  at  likenesses  here.  Take  'em  in  no  time, 
and  always  exact.  Walk  in,  sir,  and  make  yourself  at  home." 

Mr.  Pickwick  complied  with  the  invitation,  and  sat  himself 
down :  when  Mr.  Weller,  who  stationed  himself  at  the  back 
of  the  chair,  whispered  that  the  sitting  was  m^ely  another 
term  for  undergoing  an  inspection  by  the  difF  *t  turnkeys, 
in  order  that  they  might  know  prisoners  from  .sitors. 

"  Well,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  then  I  wish  the  artists 
would  come.  This  is  rather  a  public  place." 

"  They  vont  be  long,  sir,  I  des-say,"  replied  Sam.  "  There's 
a  Dutch  clock,  sir." 

"So  I  see,"  observed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"And  a  bird-cage,  sir,"  says  Sam.  "Veels  vithin  veels,  a 
prison  in  a  prison.  Ain't  it,  sir?" 

As  Mr.  Weller  made  this  philosophical  remark,  Mr.  Pick- 
wick was  aware  that  his  sitting  had  commenced.  The  stout 
turnkey  having  been  relieved  from  the  lock,  sat  down,  and 


MR.   PICKWICKS  LIKENESS  IS  TAKEN.      199 

looked  at  him  carelessly,  from  time  to  time,  while  a  long 
thin  man  who  had  relieved  him,  thrust  his  hands  beneath 
his  coat-tails,  and  planting  himself  opposite,  took  a  good 
long  view  of  him.  A  third  rather  surly-looking  gentleman : 
who  had  apparently  been  disturbed  at  his  tea,  for  he  was 
disposing  of  the  last  remnant  of  a  crust  and  butter  when  he 
came  in :  stationed  himself  close  to  Mr.  Pickwick ;  and, 
resting  his  hands  on  his  hips,  inspected  him  narrowly ;  while 
two  others  mixed  with  the  group,  and  studied  his  features 
with  most  intent  and  thoughtful  faces.  Mr.  Pickwick  winced 
a  good  deal  under  the  operation,  and  appeared  to  sit  very 
uneasily  in  his  chair;  but  he  made  no  remark  to  anybody 
while  it  was  being  performed,  not  even  to  Sam,  who  reclined 
upon  the  back  of  the  chair,  reflecting,  partly  on  the  situation 
of  his  master,  and  partly  on  the  great  satisfaction  it  would 
have  afforded  him  to  make  a  fierce  assault  upon  all  the  turnkeys 
there  assembled,  one  after  the  other,  if  it  were  lawful  and 
peaceable  so  to  do. 

At  length  the  likeness  was  completed,  and  Mr.  Pickwick 
was  informed,  that  he  might  now  proceed  into  the  prison. 

"Where  am  I  to  sleep  to-night?1"  inquired  Mr.  PickwicL 

"  Why  I  don't  rightly  know  about  to-night,1"  replied  the 
stout  turnkey.  "  You'll  be  chummed  on  somebody  to-morrow, 
and  then  you'll  be  all  snug  and  comfortable.  The  first  night's 
generally  rather  unsettled,  but  you'll  be  set  all  squares  to- 
morrow." 

After  some  discussion,  it  was  discovered  that  one  of  the 
turnkeys  had  a  bed  to  let,  which  Mr.  Pickwick  could  have 
for  that  night.  He  gladly  agreed  to  hire  it. 

"  If  you'll  come  with  me,  I'll  show  it  you  at  once,"  said 
the  man.  "It  ain't  a  large  'un;  but  it's  an  out-and-outer 
to  sleep  in.  This  way,  sir." 

They  passed  through  the  inner  gate,  and  descended  a 
short  flight  of  steps.  The  key  was  turned  after  them ;  and 
Mr.  Pickwick  found  himself,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
within  the  walls  of  a  debtor's  prison. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

WHAT  BEFEL  MR.  PICKWICK  WHEN  HE  GOT  INTO  THE  FLEET; 
WHAT  PRISONERS  HE  SAW  THERE;  AND  HOW  HE  PASSED 
THE  NIGHT. 

MR.  TOM  ROKER,  the  gentleman  who  had  accompanied  Mr. 
Pickwick  into  the  prison,  turned  sharp  round  to  the  right 
when  he  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  little  flight  of  steps,  and 
led  the  way,  through  an  iron  gate  which  stood  open,  and 
up  another  short  flight  of  steps,  into  a  long  narrow  gallery, 
dirty  and  low,  paved  with  stone,  and  very  dimly  lighted  by 
a  window  at  each  remote  end. 

"This,"  said  the  gentleman,  thrusting  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  and  looking  carelessly  over  his  shoulder  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, "  This  here  is  the  hall  flight.11 

"Oh,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  down  a  dark  and 
filthy  staircase,  which  appeared  to  lead  to  a  range  of  damp 
and  gloomy  stone  vaults,  beneath  the  ground,  "and  those, 
I  suppose,  are  the  little  cellars  where  the  prisoners  keep  their 
small  quantities  of  coals.  Unpleasant  places  to  have  to  go 
down  to;  but  very  convenient,  I  dare  say.11 

"Yes,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  was  convenient,11  replied 
the  gentleman,  "seeing  that  a  few  people  live  there,  pretty 
snug.  That's  the  Fair,  that  is.11 

"My  friend,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "you  don't  really  mean 
to  say  that  human  beings  live  down  in  those  wretched 
dungeons  ? " 


THE  WAYS  OF  THE  PLACE.  201 

"Don't  I?"  replied  Mr.  Roker,  with  indignant  astonish- 
ment ;  "  why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  Live !     Live  down  there ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Live  down  there !  Yes,  and  die  down  there,  too,  wery 
often!11  replied  Mr.  Roker;  "and  what  of  that?  Who's 
got  to  say  anything  agin  it  ?  Live  down  there !  Yes,  and 
a  wery  good  place  it  is  to  live  in,  ain't  it?" 

As  Roker  turned  somewhat  fiercely  upon  Mr.  Pickwick  in 
saying  this,  and,  moreover  muttered  in  an  excited  fashion 
certain  unpleasant  invocations  concerning  his  own  eyes,  limbs, 
and  circulating  fluids,  the  latter  gentleman  deemed  it  advisable 
to  pursue  the  discourse  no  further.  Mr.  Roker  then  proceeded 
to  mount  another  staircase,  as  dirty  as  that  which  led  to 
the  place  which  had  just  been  the  subject  of  discussion,  in 
which  ascent  he  was  closely  followed  by  Mr.  Pickwick  and 
Sam. 

"There,"  said  Mr.  Roker,  pausing  for  breath  when  they 
reached  another  gallery  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the  one 
below,  "this  is  the  coffee-room  flight;  the  one  above's  the 
third,  and  the  one  above  that's  the  top ;  and  the  room  where 
you're  a-going  to  sleep  to-night  is  the  warden's  room,  and 
it's  this  way — come  on."  Having  said  all  this  in  a  breath, 
Mr.  Roker  mounted  another  flight  of  stairs,  with  Mr.  Pick- 
wick and  Sam  Weller  following  at  his  heels. 

These  staircases  received  light  from  sundry  windows  placed 
at  some  little  distance  above  the  floor,  and  looking  into  a 
gravelled  area  bounded  by  a  high  brick  wall,  with  iron  chevaux- 
de-frise  at  the  top.  This  area,  it  appeared  from  Mr.  Roker's 
statement,  was  the  racket-ground ;  and  it  further  appeared, 
on  the  testimony  of  the  same  gentleman,  that  there  was  a 
smaller  area  in  that  portion  of  the  prison  which  was  nearest 
Farringdon  Street,  denominated  and  called  "the  Painted 
Ground,"  from  the  fact  of  its  walls  having  once  displayed 
the  semblances  of  various  men-of-war  in  full  sail,  and  other 
artistical  effects  achieved  in  bygone  times  by  some  imprisoned 
draughtsman  in  his  leisure  hours. 


202  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Having  communicated  this  piece  of  information,  apparently 
more  for  the  purpose  of  discharging  his  bosom  of  an  important 
fact,  than  with  any  specific  view  of  enlightening  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, the  guide,  having  at  length  reached  another  gallery, 
led  the  way  into  a  small  passage  at  the  extreme  end :  opened 
a  door:  and  disclosed  an  apartment  of  an  appearance  by  no 
means  inviting,  containing  eight  or  nine  iron  bedsteads. 

"  There,"  said  Mr.  Roker,  holding  the  door  open,  and 
looking  triumphantly  round  at  Mr.  Pickwick,  "there's  a 
room ! " 

Mr.  Pickwick's  face,  however,  betokened  such  a  very  trifling 
portion  of  satisfaction  at  the  appearance  of  his  lodging,  that 
Mr.  Roker  looked  for  a  reciprocity  of  feeling  into  the  counte- 
nance of  Samuel  Weller,  who,  until  now,  had  observed  a 
dignified  silence. 

"  There's  a  room,  young  man,"  observed  Mr.  Roker. 
"  I  see  it,"  replied  Sam,  with  a  placid  nod  of  the  head. 
"You  wouldn't  think  to  find  such  a  room  as  this  in  the 
Farringdon    Hotel,    would  you?"  said  Mr.   Roker,   with  a 
complacent  smile. 

To  this  Mr.  Weller  replied  with  an  easy  and  unstudied 
closing  of  one  eye;  which  might  be  considered  to  mean, 
either  that  he  would  have  thought  it,  or  that  he  would  not 
have  thought  it,  or  that  he  had  never  thought  anything  at 
all  about  it :  as  the  observer's  imagination  suggested.  Having 
executed  this  feat,  and  re-opened  his  eye,  Mr.  Weller  pro- 
ceeded to  inquire  which  was  the  individual  bedstead  that 
Mr.  Roker  had  so  flatteringly  described  as  an  out-an-outer 
to  sleep  in. 

"That's  it,"  replied  Mr.  Roker,  pointing  to  a  very  rusty 
one  in  a  corner.  "  It  would  make  any  one  go  to  sleep,  that 
bedstead  would,  whether  they  wanted  to  or  not." 

"  I  should  think,"  said  Sam,  eyeing  the  piece  of  furniture 
in  question  with  a  look  of  excessive  disgust,  "  I  should  think 
poppies  was  nothing  to  it." 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Roker. 


THE   POPULATION  OF  THE   PLACE.        203 

"  And  I  s'pose,"  said  Sam,  with  a  sidelong  glance  at  his 
master,  as  if  to  see  whether  there  were  any  symptoms  of  his 
determination  being  shaken  by  what  passed,  "I  s'pose  the 
other  genTmen  as  sleeps  here,  are  genTmen."" 

"  Nothing  but  it,11  said  Mr.  Roker.  "  One  of  'em  takes 
his  twelve  pints  of  ale  a-day,  and  never  leaves  off  smoking 
even  at  his  meals." 

"  He  must  be  a  first-rater,"  said  Sam. 

"A,  1,"  replied  Mr.  Roker. 

Nothing  daunted,  even  by  this  intelligence,  Mr.  Pickwick 
smilingly  announced  his  determination  to  test  the  powers  of 
the  narcotic  bedstead  for  that  night;  and  Mr.  Roker,  after 
informing  him  that  he  could  retire  to  rest  at  whatever  hour 
he  thought  proper,  without  any  further  notice  or  formality, 
walked  off,  leaving  him  standing  with  Sam  in  the  gallery. 

It  was  getting  dark ;  that  is  to  say,  a  few  gas  jets  were 
kindled  in  this  place  which  was  never  light,  by  way  of  com- 
pliment to  the  evening,  which  had  set  in  outside.  As  it  was 
rather  warm,  some  of  the  tenants  of  the  numerous  little  rooms 
which  opened  into  the  gallery  on  either  hand,  had  set  their 
doors  ajar.  Mr.  Pickwick  peeped  into  them  as  he  passed 
along,  with  great  curiosity  and  interest.  Here  four  or  five 
great  hulking  fellows,  just  visible  through  a  cloud  of  tobacco- 
smoke,  were  engaged  in  noisy  and  riotous  conversation  over 
half-emptied  pots  of  beer,  or  playing  at  all-fours  with  a  very 
greasy  pack  of  cards.  In  the  adjoining  room,  some  solitary 
tenant  might  be  seen,  poring,  by  the  light  of  a  feeble  tallow 
candle,  over  a  bundle  of  soiled  and  tattered  papers,  yellow 
with  dust  and  dropping  to  pieces  from  age :  writing,  for  the 
hundredth  time,  some  lengthened  statement  of  his  grievances, 
for  the  perusal  of  some  great  man  whose  eyes  it  would  never 
reach,  or  whose  heart  it  would  never  touch.  In  a  third,  a 
man,  with  his  wife  and  a  whole  crowd  of  children,  might  be 
seen  making  up  a  scanty  bed  on  the  ground,  or  upon  a  few 
chairs,  for  the  younger  ones  to  pass  the  night  in.  And  in  a 
fourth,  and  a  fifth,  and  a  sixth,  and  a  seventh,  the  noise, 


204  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

and  the  beer,  and  the  tobacco-smoke,  and  the  cards,  all  came 
over  again  in  greater  force  than  before. 

In  the  galleries  themselves,  and  more  especially  on  the 
staircases,  there  lingered  a  great  number  of  people,  who 
came  there,  some  because  their  rooms  were  empty  and  lone- 
some, others  because  their  rooms  were  full  and  hot:  the 
greater  part  because  they  were  restless  and  uncomfortable, 
and  not  possessed  of  the  secret  of  exactly  knowing  what  to 
do  with  themselves.  There  were  many  classes  of  people  here, 
from  the  labouring  man  in  his  fustian  jacket,  to  the  broken- 
down  spendthrift  in  his  shawl  dressing-gown,  most  appro- 
priately out  at  elbows;  but  there  was  the  same  air  about 
them  all — a  listless  jail-bird  careless  swagger,  a  vagabondish 
whoVafraid  sort  of  bearing,  which  is  wholly  indescribable  in 
words,  but  which  any  man  can  understand  in  one  moment 
if  he  wish,  by  setting  foot  in  the  nearest  debtor's  prison, 
and  looking  at  the  very  first  group  of  people  he  sees  there, 
with  the  same  interest  as  Mr.  Pickwick  did. 

"It  strikes  me,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  leaning  over  the 
iron-rail  at  the  stairhead,  "  It  strikes  me,  Sam,  that  imprison- 
ment for  debt  is  scarcely  any  punishment  at  all." 

"Think  not,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"You  see  how  these  fellows  drink,  and  smoke,  and  roar,"" 
replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "It's  quite  impossible  that  they  can 
mind  it  much." 

"Ah,  that's  just  the  wery  thing,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam,  "ihey 
don't  mind  it;  it's  a  regular  holiday  to  them — all  porter 
and  skittles.  It's  the  t'other  vuns  as  gets  done  over,  vith 
this  sort  o'  thing:  them  down-hearted  fellers  as  can't  svig 
avay  at  the  beer,  nor  play  at  skittles  neither;  them  as  vould 
pay  if  they  could,  and  gets  low  by  being  boxed  up.  I'll  tell 
you  wot  it  is,  sir;  them  as  is  always  a  idlin'  in  public  houses 
it  don't  damage  at  all,  and  them  as  is  alvays  a  workin'  wen 
they  can,  it  damages  too  much.  'It's  unekal,'  as  my  father 
used  to  say  wen  his  grog  worn't  made  half-and-half:  'It's 
unekal,  and  that's  the  fault  on  it.' " 


THE  STORY  OF  NUMBER  TWENTY.        205 

"  I  think  you're  right,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  after  a  few 
moments'  reflection,  "  quite  right." 

"P'raps,  now  and  then,  there's  some  honest  people  as  likes 
it,"  observed  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  ruminative  tone,  "but  I  never 
heerd  o'  one  as  I  can  call  to  mind,  'cept  the  little  dirty-faced 
man  in  the  brown  coat ;  and  that  was  force  of  habit." 

"And  who  was  he?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Wy,  that's  just  the  wery  point  as  nobody  never  know'd," 
replied  Sam. 

"But  what  did  he  do ?" 

"  Wy  he  did  wot  many  men  as  has  been  much  better  know'd 
has  done  in  their  time,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  "he  run  a  match 
agin  the  constable,  and  vun  it." 

"  In  other  words,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  he  got 
into  debt." 

"Just  that,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  "and  in  course  o'  time  he 
come  here  in  consekens.  It  warn't  much — execution  for  nine 
pound  nothin',  multiplied  by  five  for  costs ;  but  hows'ever 
here  he  stopped  for  seventeen  year.  If  he  got  any  wrinkles 
in  his  face,  they  was  stopped  up  vith  the  dirt,  for  both  the 
dirty  face  and  the  brown  coat  wos  just  the  same  at  the  end 
o'  that  time  as  they  wos  at  the  beginnin'.  He  wos  a  wery 
peaceful  inoffendin'  little  creetur,  and  wos  alvays  a  bustlin' 
about  for  somebody,  or  playin'  rackets  and  never  vinnin' ; 
till  at  last  the  turnkeys  they  got  quite  fond  on  him,  and  he 
wos  in  the  lodge  ev'ry  night,  a  chattering  vith  'em,  and  tellin' 
stories,  and  all  that  'ere.  Vun  night  he  wos  in  there  as 
usual,  along  vith  a  wery  old  friend  of  his,  as  wos  on  the 
lock,  ven  he  says  all  of  a  sudden,  ' 1  ain't  seen  the  market 
outside,  Bill,'  he  says  (Fleet  Market  wos  there  at  that  time) 
— '  I  ain't  seen  the  market  outside,  Bill,'  he  says,  '  for  seven- 
teen year.'  'I  know  you  ain't,'  says  the  turnkey,  smoking 
his  pipe.  *I  should  like  to  see  it  for  a  minit,  Bill,'  he  says. 
'Wery  probable,'  says  the  turnkey,  smoking  his  pipe  wery 
fierce,  and  making  believe  he  warn't  up  to  wot  the  little 
man  wanted,  'Bill,'  says  the  little  man,  more  abrupt  than 


206  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

afore,  '  I've  got  the  fancy  in  my  head.  Let  me  see  the  public 
streets  once  more  afore  I  die;  and  if  I  ain't  struck  with 
apoplexy,  HI  be  back  in  five  minits  by  the  clock.'  'And 
wot  'ud  become  o'  me  if  you  rc'o«9  struck  with  apoplexy  ? '  said 
the  turnkey.  '  Wy,'  says  the  little  creetur,  '  whoever  found 
me,  'ud  bring  me  home,  for  I've  got  my  card  in  my  pocket, 
Bill,1  he  says,  «No.  20,  Coffee-room  Flight:'  and  that  wos 
true,  sure  enough,  for  wen  he  wanted  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  any  new  comer,  he  used  to  pull  out  a  little  limp  card 
vith  them  words  on  it  and  nothin'  else ;  in  consideration  of 
vich,  he  wos  alvays  called  Number  Tventy.  The  turnkey 
takes  a  fixed  look  at  him,  and  at  last  he  says  in  a  solemn 
manner,  '  Tventy,'  he  says, '  I'll  trust  you ;  you  won't  get  your 
old  friend  into  trouble.'  '  No,  my  boy ;  I  hope  I've  somethin' 
better  behind  here,'  says  the  little  man ;  and  as  he  said  it  he 
hit  his  little  veskit  wery  hard,  and  then  a  tear  started  out  o' 
each  eye,  which  wos  wery  extraordinary,  for  it  wos  supposed 
as  water  never  touched  his  face.  He  shook  the  turnkey  by 
the  hand ;  out  he  vent " 

"And  never  came  back  again,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Wrong  for  vunce,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  "  for  back  he 
come,  two  minits  afore  the  time,  a  bilin'  with  rage:  sayin' 
how  he'd  been  nearly  run  over  by  a  hackney-coach :  that  he 
warn't  used  to  it :  and  he  was  blowed  if  he  wouldn't  write  to 
the  Lord  Mayor.  They  got  him  pacified  at  last;  and  for 
five  years  arter  that,  he  never  even  so  much  as  peeped  out  o1 
the  lodge-gate." 

"  At  the  expiration  of  that  time  he  died,  I  suppose,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  No  he  didn't,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "  He  got  a  curiosity  to 
go  and  taste  the  beer  at  a  new  public-house  over  the  way, 
and  it  wos  such  a  wery  nice  parlour,  that  he  took  it  into  his 
head  to  go  there  every  night,  wich  he  did  for  a  long  time, 
always  comin'  back  reg'lar  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afore 
the  gate  shut,  wich  wos  all  wery  snug  and  comfortable.  At 
last  he  began  to  get  so  precious  jolly,  that  he  used  to  forget 


MR.  PICKWICK  IN  THE  PAINTED  GROUND.    207 

how  the  time  vent,  or  care  nothin'  at  all  about  it,  and  he 
vent  on  gettin'  later  and  later,  till  vun  night  his  old  friend 
wos  just  a  shuttin'  the  gate — had  turned  the  key  in  fact — 
wen  he  come  up.  '  Hold  hard,  Bill,'  he  says.  *  Wot,  ain't 
you  come  home  yet,  Tventy?'  says  the  turnkey,  'I  thought 
you  wos  in,  long  ago.'  'No  I  wasn't,1  says  the  little  man, 
vith  a  smile.  'Well  then,  I'll  tell  you  wot  it  is,  my  friend,' 
says  the  turnkey,  openin'  the  gate  wery  slow  and  sulky,  'it's 
my  'pinion  as  you've  got  into  bad  company  o'  late,  which 
I'm  wery  sorry  to  see.  Now,  I  don't  wish  to  do  nothing 
harsh,'  he  says,  '  but  if  you  can't  confine  yourself  to  steady 
circles,  and  find  your  vay  back  at  reg'lar  hours,  as  sure  as 
you're  a  standin'  there,  I'll  shut  you  out  altogether ! '  The 
little  man  was  seized  vith  a  wiolent  fit  o'  tremblin',  and  never 
vent  outside  the  prison  walls  artervards ! " 

As  Sam  concluded,  Mr.  Pickwick  slowly  retraced  his  steps 
down  stairs.  After  a  few  thoughtful  turns  in  the  Painted 
Ground,  which,  as  it  was  now  dark,  was  nearly  deserted,  he 
intimated  to  Mr.  Weller  that  he  thought  it  high  time  for 
him  to  withdraw  for  the  night;  requesting  him  to  seek  a 
bed  in  some  adjacent  public-house,  and  return  early  in  the 
morning,  to  make  arrangements  for  the  removal  of  his  master's 
wardrobe  from  the  George  and  Vulture.  This  request  Mr. 
Samuel  Weller  prepared  to  obey,  with  as  good  a  grace  as 
he  could  assume,  but  with  a  very  considerable  show  of 
reluctance  nevertheless.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  essay 
sundry  ineffectual  hints  regarding  the  expediency  of  stretch- 
ing himself  on  the  gravel  for  that  night;  but  finding  Mr. 
Pickwick  obstinately  deaf  to  any  such  suggestions,  finally 
withdrew. 

There  is  no  disguising  the  fact  that  Mr.  Pickwick  felt 
very  low-spirited  and  uncomfortable ;  not  for  lack  of  society, 
for  the  prison  was  very  full,  and  a  bottle  of  wine  would  at 
once  have  purchased  the  utmost  good-fellowship  of  a  few 
choice  spirits,  without  any  more  formal  ceremony  of  introduc- 
tion ;  but  he  was  alone  in  the  coarse  vulgar  crowd,  and  felt 


208  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  depression  of  spirit  and  sinking  of  heart,  naturally  con- 
sequent on  the  reflection  that  he  was  cooped  and  caged  up, 
without  a  prospect  of  liberation.  As  to  the  idea  of  releasing 
himself  by  ministering  to  the  sharpness  of  Dodson  and  Fogg, 
it  never  for  an  instant  entered  his  thoughts. 

In  this  frame  of  mind  he  turned  again  into  the  coffee-room 
gallery,  and  walked  slowly  to  and  fro.  The  place  was  in- 
tolerably dirty,  and  the  smell  of  tobacco-smoke  perfectly 
suffocating.  There  was  a  perpetual  slamming  and  banging 
of  doors  as  the  people  went  in  and  out;  and  the  noise  of 
their  voices  and  footsteps  echoed  and  re-echoed  through  the 
passages  constantly.  A  young  woman,  with  a  child  in  her 
arms,  who  seemed  scarcely  able  to  crawl,  from  emaciation 
and  misery,  was  walking  up  and  down  the  passage  in  conversa- 
tion with  her  husband,  who  had  no  other  place  to  see  her  in. 
As  they  passed  Mr.  Pickwick,  he  could  hear  the  female 
sob ;  and  once  she  burst  into  such  a  passion  of  grief,  that  she 
was  compelled  to  lean  against  the  wall  for  support,  while  the 
man  took  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  tried  to  soothe  her. 

Mr.  Pickwick's  heart  was  really  too  full  to  bear  it,  and  he 
went  up  stairs  to  bed. 

Now,  although  the  warden's  room  was  a  very  uncomfortable 
one  (being,  in  every  point  of  decoration  and  convenience, 
several  hundred  degrees  inferior  to  the  common  infirmary  of 
a  county  gaol),  it  had  at  present  the  merit  of  being  wholly 
deserted  save  by  Mr.  Pickwick  himself.  So,  he  sat  down  at 
the  foot  of  his  little  iron  bedstead,  and  began  to  wonder  how 
much  a  year  the  warden  made  out  of  the  dirty  room.  Having 
satisfied  himself,  by  mathematical  calculation,  that  the  apart- 
ment was  about  equal  in  annual  value  to  the  freehold  of  a 
small  street  in  the  suburbs  of  London,  he  took  to  wondering 
what  possible  temptation  could  have  induced  a  dingy-looking 
fly  that  was  crawling  over  his  pantaloons,  to  come  into  a 
close  prison,  when  he  had  the  choice  of  so  many  airy  situa- 
tions— a  course  of  meditation  which  led  him  to  the  irresistible 
conclusion  that  the  insect  was  mad.  After  settling  this  point, 


SLEEPING  AND  WAKING.  209 

he  began  to  be  conscious  that  he  was  getting  sleepy ;  where- 
upon he  took  his  nightcap  out  of  the  pocket  in  which  he 
had  had  the  precaution  to  stow  it  in  the  morning,  and, 
leisurely  undressing  himself,  got  into  bed,  and  fell  asleep. 

"  Bravo !  Heel  over  toe — cut  and  shuffle — pay  away  at  it, 
Zephyr !  I'm  smothered  if  the  Opera  House  isn't  your  proper 
hemisphere.  Keep  it  up !  Hooray  ! "  These  expressions, 
delivered  in  a  most  boisterous  tone,  and  accompanied  with 
loud  peals  of  laughter,  roused  Mr.  Pickwick  from  one  of 
those  sound  slumbers  which,  lasting  in  reality  some  half  hour, 
seem  to  the  sleeper  to  have  been  protracted  for  three  weeks 
or  a  month. 

The  voice  had  no  sooner  ceased  than  the  room  was  shaken 
with  such  violence  that  the  windows  rattled  in  their  frames, 
and  the  bedsteads  trembled  again.  Mr.  Pickwick  started 
up,  and  remained  for  some  minutes  fixed  in  mute  astonishment 
at  the  scene  before  him. 

On  the  floor  of  the  room,  a  man  in  a  broad-skirted  green 
coat,  with  corderoy  knee  smalls  and  grey  cotton  stockings, 
was  performing  the  most  popular  steps  of  a  hornpipe,  with 
a  slang  and  burlesque  caricature  of  grace  and  lightness, 
which,  combined  with  the  very  appropriate  character  of  his 
costume,  was  inexpressibly  absurd.  Another  man,  evidently 
very  drunk,  who  had  probably  been  tumbled  into  bed  by  his 
companions,  was  sitting  up  between  the  sheets,  warbling  as 
much  as  he  could  recollect  of  a  comic  song,  with  the  most 
intensely  sentimental  feeling  and  expression;  while  a  third, 
seated  on  one  of  the  bedsteads,  was  applauding  both  performers 
with  the  air  of  a  profound  connoisseur,  and  encouraging 
them  by  such  ebullitions  of  feeling  as  had  already  roused 
Mr.  Pickwick  from  his  sleep. 

This  last  man  was  an  admirable  specimen  of  a  class  of 
gentry  which  never  can  be  seen  in  full  perfection  but  in  such 
places; — they  may  be  met  with,  in  an  imperfect  state, 
occasionally  about  stable-yards  and  public-houses ;  but  they 
never  attain  their  full  bloom  except  in  these  hot-beds,  which 

VOL.  n.  p 


210  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

would  almost  seem  to  be  considerately  provided  by  the 
Legislature  for  the  sole  purpose  of  rearing  them. 

He  was  a  tall  fellow,  with  an  olive  complexion,  long  dark 
hair,  and  very  thick  bushy  whiskers  meeting  under  his  chin. 
He  wore  no  neckerchief,  as  he  had  been  playing  rackets  all 
day,  and  his  open  shirt  collar  displayed  their  full  luxuriance. 
On  his  head  he  wore  one  of  the  common  eighteenpenny 
French  skull-caps,  with  a  gawdy  tassel  dangling  therefrom, 
very  happily  in  keeping  with  a  common  fustian  coat.  His 
legs :  which,  being  long,  were  afflicted  with  weakness :  graced 
a  pair  of  Oxford-mixture  trousers,  made  to  show  the  full 
symmetry  of  those  limbs.  Being  somewhat  negligently  braced, 
however,  and,  morover,  but  imperfectly  buttoned,  they  fell 
in  a  series  of  not  the  most  graceful  folds  over  a  pair  of  shoes 
sufficiently  down  at  heel  to  display  a  pair  of  very  soiled  white 
stockings.  There  was  a  rakish,  vagabond  smartness,  and  a 
kind  of  boastful  rascality,  about  the  whole  man,  that  was 
worth  a  mine  of  gold. 

This  figure  was  the  first  to  perceive  that  Mr.  Pickwick  was 
looking  on ;  upon  which  he  winked  to  the  Zephyr,  and 
entreated  him,  with  mock  gravity,  not  to  wake  the  gentleman. 

"  Why,  bless  the  gentleman's  honest  heart  and  soul ! "  said 
the  Zephyr*  turning  round  and  affecting  the  extremity  of 
surprise ;  "  the  gentleman  is  awake.  Hem,  Shakespeare ! 
How  do  you  do,  sir?  How  is  Mary  and  Sarah,  sir?  and 
the  dear  old  lady  at  home,  sir?  Will  you  have  the  kindness 
to  put  my  compliments  into  the  first  little  parcel  you're  send- 
ing that  way,  sir,  and  say  that  I  would  have  sent  "em  before, 
only  I  was  afraid  they  might  be  broken  in  the  waggon,  sir  ? " 

"Don't  overwhelm  the  gentleman  with  ordinary  civilities 
when  you  see  he's  anxious  to  have  something  to  drink,"  said 
the  gentleman  with  the  whiskers,  with  a  jocose  air.  "  Why 
don't  you  ask  the  gentleman  what  he'll  take?" 

"Dear  me,  I  quite  forgot,"  replied  the  other.  "What 
will  you  take,  sir?  Will  you  take  port  wine,  sir,  or  sherry 
wine,  sir  ?  I  can  recommend  the  ale,  sir ;  or  perhaps  you'd 


MR.   PICKWICK  RETALIATES.  211 

like  to  taste  the  porter,  sir?     Allow  me  to  have  the  felicity 
of  hanging  up  your  nightcap,  sir."" 

With  this,  the  speaker  snatched  that  article  of  dress  from 
Mr.  Pickwick's  head,  and  fixed  it  in  a  twinkling  on  that  of 
the  drunken  man,  who,  firmly  impressed  with  the  belief  that 
he  was  delighting  a  numerous  assembly,  continued  to  hammer 
away  at  the  comic  song  in  the  most  melancholy  strains 
imaginable. 

Taking  a  man's  nightcap  from  his  brow  by  violent  means, 
and  adjusting  it  on  the  head  of  an  unknown  gentleman  of 
dirty  exterior,  however  ingenious  a  witticism  in  itself,  is 
unquestionably  one  of  those  which  come  under  the  denomina- 
tion of  practical  jokes.  Viewing  the  matter  precisely  in  this 
light,  Mr.  Pickwick,  without  the  slightest  intimation  of  his 
purpose,  sprang  vigorously  out  of  bed,  struck  the  Zephyr  so 
smart  a  blow  in  the  chest  as  to  deprive  him  of  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  commodity  which  sometimes  bears  his  name, 
and  then,  recapturing  his  nightcap,  boldly  placed  himself  in 
an  attitude  of  defence. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  gasping  no  less  from  excitement 
than  from  the  expenditure  of  so  much  energy,  "come  on — 
both  of  you — both  of  you!"  With  this  liberal  invitation 
the  worthy  gentleman  communicated  a  revolving  motion  to 
his  clenched  fists,  by  way  of  appalling  his  antagonists  with 
a  display  of  science. 

It  might  have  been  Mr.  Pickwick's  very  unexpected  gallantry, 
or  it  might  have  been  the  complicated  manner  in  which  he 
had  got  himself  out  of  bed,  and  fallen  all  in  a  mass  upon  the 
hornpipe  man,  that  touched  his  adversaries.  Touched  they 
were ;  for,  instead  of  then  and  there  making  an  attempt  to 
commit  manslaughter,  as  Mr.  Pickwick  implicitly  believed 
they  would  have  done,  they  paused,  stared  at  each  other  a 
short  time,  and  finally  laughed  outright. 

"  Well ;  you're  a  trump,  and  I  like  you  all  the  better  for 
it,"  said  the  Zephyr.  "  Now  jump  into  bed  again,  or  you'll 
catch  the  rheumatics.  No  malice,  I  hope?"  said  the  man, 


212  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

extending  a  hand  the  size  of  the  yellow  clump  of  fingers  which 
sometimes  swing  over  a  glover's  door. 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  with  great  alacrity; 
for,  now  that  the  excitement  was  over,  he  began  to  feel  rather 
cool  about  the  legs. 

"Allow  me  the  honour"  said  the  gentleman  with  the 
whiskers,  presenting  his  dexter  hand,  and  aspirating  the  h, 

"  With  much  pleasure,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  and  having 
executed  a  very  long  and  solemn  shake,  he  got  into  bed  again. 

"My  name  is  Smangle,  sir,11  said  the  man  with  the 
whiskers. 

"  Oh,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Mine  is  Mivins,11  said  the  man  in  the  stockings. 

'•'  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Hem,11  coughed  Mr.  Smangle. 

''Did  you  speak,  sir?11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  No,  I  did  not,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Smangle. 

"I  thought  you  did,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

All  this  was  very  genteel  and  pleasant ;  and,  to  make 
matters  still  more  comfortable,  Mr.  Smangle  assured  Mr. 
Pickwick  a  great  many  times  that  he  entertained  a  very  high 
respect  for  the  feelings  of  a  gentleman ;  which  sentiment, 
indeed,  did  him  infinite  credit,  as  he  could  be  in  no  wise 
supposed  to  understand  them. 

"Are  you  going  through  the  Court,  sir?11  inquired  Mr. 
Smangle. 

"Through  the  what?11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Through  the  Court— Portugal  Street— the  Court  for  the 
Relief  of you  know.11 

"Oh,  no,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.     "No,  I  am  not.11 

"  Going  out,  perhaps  ?  "  suggested  Mivins. 

"  I  fear  not,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  I  refuse  to  pay  some 
damages,  and  am  here  in  consequence.11 

"Ah,11  said  Mr.  Smangle,  "paper  has  been  my  ruin.11 

"A  stationer,  I  presume,  sir?11  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
innocently. 


A  GOOD  UNDERSTANDING  EFFECTED.     213 

"Stationer!  No,  no;  confound  and  curse  me!  Not  so 
low  as  that.  No  trade.  When  I  say  paper,  I  mean  bills." 

"Oh,  you  use  the  word  in  that  sense.  I  see,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Damme!  A  gentleman  must  expect  reverses,"  said 
Smangle.  "  What  of  that  ?  Here  am  I  in  the  Fleet  Prison. 
Well;  good.  What  then?  I'm  none  the  worse  for  tha,t, 
am  I?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  replied  Mr.  Mivins.  And  he  was  quite  right ; 
for,  so  far  from  Mr.  Smangle  being  any  the  worse  for  it,  he 
was  something  the  better,  inasmuch  as  to  qualify  himself  for- 
the  place,  he  had  attained  gratuitous  possession  of  certain 
articles  of  jewellery,  which,  long  before  that,  had  found  their 
way  to  the  pawnbroker's. 

"  Well ;  but  come,"  said  Mr.  Sniangle ;  "  this  is  dry  work. 
Let's  rinse  our  mouths  with  a  drop  of  burnt  sherry ;  the  last 
comer  shall  stand  it,  Mivins  shall  fetch  it,  and  I'll  help  to 
drink  it.  That's  a  fair  and  gentlemanlike  division  of  labour, 
any  how.  Curse  me  ! " 

Unwilling  to  hazard  another  quarrel,  Mr.  Pickwick  gladly 
assented  to  the  proposition,  and  consigned  the  money  to  Mr. 
Mivins,  who,  as  it  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock,  lost  no  time  in 
repairing  to  the  coffee-room  on  his  errand. 

"I  say,"  whispered  Smangle,  the  moment  his  friend  had 
left  the  room ;  "  what  did  you  give  him  ?  " 

"  Half  a  sovereign,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"He's  a  devilish  pleasant  gentlemanly  dog,"  said  Mr. 
Smangle ; — "  infernal  pleasant.  I  don't  know  anybody  more 

so;  but "     Here  Mr.  Smangle  stopped  short,  and  shook 

his  head  dubiously. 

"  You  don't  think  there  is  any  probability  of  his  appro- 
priating the  money  to  his  own  use?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Oh,  no !  Mind,  I  don't  say  that ;  I  expressly  say  that 
he's  a  devilish  gentlemanly  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Smangle.  "  But 
I  think,  perhaps,  if  somebody  went  down,  just  to  see  that 
he  didn't  dip  his  beak  into  the  jug  by  accident,  or  make 


214  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

some  confounded  mistake  in  losing  the  money  as  he  came 
up  stairs,  it  would  be  as  well.  Here,  you  sir,  just  run  down 
stairs,  and  look  after  that  gentleman,  will  you  ? " 

This  request  was  addressed  to  a  little  timid-looking  nervous 
man,  whose  appearance  bespoke  great  poverty,  and  who  had 
been  crouching  on  his  bedstead  all  this  while,  apparently 
stupified  by  the  novelty  of  his  situation. 

"You  know  where  the  coffee-room  is,"  said  Smangle ; 
"just  run  down,  and  tell  that  gentleman  you've  come  to 
help  him  up  with  the  jug.  Or — stop — I'll  tell  you  what — 
Til  tell  you  how  we'll  do  him,"  said  Smangle,  with  a  cunning 
look. 

"How?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Send  down  word  that  he's  to  spend  the  change  in  cigars. 
Capital  thought.  Run  and  tell  him  that;  d'ye  hear?  They 
shan't  be  wasted,"  continued  Smangle,  turning  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. "  ril  smoke  'em." 

This  maneuvering  was  so  exceedingly  ingenious,  and, 
withal,  performed  with  such  immovable  composure  and  cool- 
ness, that  Mr.  Pickwick  would  have  had  no  wish  to  disturb 
it,  even  if  he  had  had  the  power.  In  a  short  time  Mr. 
Mivins  returned,  bearing  the  sherry,  which  Mr.  Smangle 
dispensed  in  two  little  cracked  mugs :  considerately  remarking, 
with  reference  to  himself,  that  a  gentleman  must  not  be 
particular  under  such  circumstances,  and  that,  for  his  part, 
he  was  not  too  proud  to  drink  out  of  the  jug.  In  which, 
to  show  his  sincerity,  he  forthwith  pledged  the  company  in 
a  draught  which  half  emptied  it. 

An  excellent  understanding  having  been  by  these  means 
promoted,  Mr.  Smangle  proceeded  to  entertain  his  hearers 
with  a  relation  of  divers  romantic  adventures  in  which  he 
had  been  from  time  to  time  engaged,  involving  various 
interesting  anecdotes  of  a  thorough-bred  horse,  and  a  magnifi- 
cent Jewess,  both  of  surpassing  beauty,  and  much  coveted 
by  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  these  kingdoms. 

Long  before  these  elegant  extracts  from  the  biography  of 


SOUND  ASLEEP  AT  LAST.  215 

a  gentleman,  were  concluded,  Mr.  Mivins  had  betaken  himself 
to  bed,  and  had  set  in  snoring  for  the  night :  leaving  the 
timid  stranger  and  Mr.  Pickwick  to  the  full  benefit  of  Mr. 
Smangle's  experiences. 

Nor  were  the  two  last-named  gentlemen  as  much  edified 
as  they  might  have  been,  by  the  moving  passages  narrated. 
Mr.  Pickwick  had  been  in  a  state  of  slumber  for  some 
time,  when  he  had  a  faint  perception  of  the  drunken  man 
bursting  out  afresh  with  the  comic  song,  and  receiving  from 
Mr.  Smangle  a  gentle  intimation,  through  the  medium  of  the 
water  jug,  that  his  audience  were  not  musically  disposed. 
Mr.  Pickwick  then  once  again  dropped  off  to  sleep,  with  a 
confused  consciousness  that  Mr.  Smangle  was  still  engaged 
in  relating  a  long  story,  the  chief  point  of  which  appeared 
to  be,  that,  on  some  occasion  particularly  stated  and  set 
forth,  he  had  "done"  a  bill  and  a  gentleman  at  the  same 
time. 


CHAPTER    XLII. 

ILLUSTRATIVE,  LIKE  THE  PRECEDING  ONE,  OF  THE  OLD  PROVERB, 
THAT  ADVERSITY  BRINGS  A  MAN  ACQUAINTED  WITH  STRANGE 
BED-FELLOWS.  LIKEWISE  CONTAINING  MR.  PICKWICK^S  EXTRA- 
ORDINARY AND  STARTLING  ANNOUNCEMENT  TO  MR.  SAMUEL 
WELLER. 

WHEN  Mr.  Pickwick  opened  his  eyes  next  morning,  the  first 
object  upon  which  they  rested,  was  Samuel  Weller,  seated 
upon  a  small  black  portmanteau,  intently  regarding,  apparently 
in  a  condition  of  profound  abstraction,  the  stately  figure  of 
the  dashing  Mr.  Smangle:  while  Mr.  Smangle  himself,  who 
was  already  partially  dressed,  was  seated  on  his  bedstead, 
occupied  in  the  desperately  hopeless  attempt  of  staring  Mr. 
Weller  out  of  countenance.  We  say  desperately  hopeless, 
because  Sam,  with  a  comprehensive  gaze  which  took  in  Mr. 
Smangle's  cap,  feet,  head,  face,  legs,  and  whiskers,  all  at 
the  same  time,  continued  to  look  steadily  on,  with  every 
demonstration  of  lively  satisfaction,  but  with  no  more  regard 
to  Mr.  Smangle's  personal  sentiments  on  the  subject  than  he 
would  have  displayed  had  he  been  inspecting  a  wooden  statue, 
or  a  straw-embowelled  Guy  Faux. 

"  Well ;  will  you  know  me  again  ? "  said  Mr.  Smangle, 
with  a  frown. 

"  Fd  svear  to  you  anyveres,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  cheerfully. 

"Don't  be  impertinent  to  a  gentleman,  sir,1'  said  Mr. 
Smangle. 


CLEAN  CLOTHES.  217 

"  Not  on  no  account,1'  replied  Sam.  "  If  you'll  tell  me  wen 
he  wakes,  I'll  be  upon  the  wery  best  extra-super  behaviour!" 
This  observation,  having  a  remote  tendency  to  imply  that 
Mr.  Smangle  was  no  gentleman,  kindled  his  ire. 

"  Mivins ! "  said  Mr.  Smangle,  with  a  passionate  air. 

"What's  the  office?"  replied  that  gentleman  from  his 
couch. 

"Who  the  devil  is  this  fellow?" 

"  'Gad,"  said  Mr.  Mivins,  looking  lazily  out  from  under  the 
bed-clothes,  "I  ought  to  ask  you  that.  Hasn't  he  any 
business  here?" 

"No,"  replied  Mr.  Smangle. 

"  Then  knock  him  down  stairs,  and  tell  him  not  to  presume 
to  get  up  till  I  come  and  kick  him,"  rejoined  Mr.  Mivins ; 
with  this  prompt  advice  that  excellent  gentleman  again  betook 
himself  to  slumber. 

The  conversation  exhibiting  these  unequivocal  symptoms 
of  verging  on  the  personal,  Mr.  Pickwick  deemed  it  a  fit 
point  at  which  to  interpose. 

"  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Sir,"  rejoined  that  gentleman. 

"  Has  anything  new  occurred  since  last  night  ? " 

"Nothin'  partickler,  sir,"  replied  Sam,  glancing  at  Mr. 
Smangle's  whiskers ;  "  the  late  prewailance  of  a  close  and 
confined  atmosphere  has  been  rayther  favourable  to  the 
growth  of  veeds,  of  an  alarmin'  and  sangvinary  natur;  but 
vith  that  'ere  exception  things  is  quiet  enough." 

"  I  shall  get  up,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  give  me  some  clean 
things." 

Whatever  hostile  intentions  Mr.  Smangle  might  have 
entertained,  his  thoughts  were  speedily  diverted  by  the  un- 
packing of  the  portmanteau ;  the  contents  of  which,  appeared 
to  impress  him  at  once  with  a  most  favourable  opinion,  not 
only  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  but  of  Sam  also,  who,  he  took  an 
early  opportunity  of  declaring  in  a  tone  of  voice  loud  enough 
for  that  eccentric  personage  to  overhear,  was  a  regular 


218  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

thorough-bred  original,  and  consequently  the  very  man  after 
his  own  heart.  As  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  the  affection  he  con- 
ceived for  him  knew  no  limits. 

"Now  is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  my  dear  sir?11 
said  Smangle. 

"  Nothing  that  I  am  aware  of,  I  am  obliged  to  you,"  replied 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

"No  linen  that  you  want  sent  to  the  washerwoman's?  I 
know  a  delightful  washerwoman  outside,  that  comes  for  my 
things  twice  a  week ;  and,  by  Jove ! — how  devilish  lucky  ! — 
this  is  the  day  she  calls.  Shall  I  put  any  of  those  little 
things  up  with  mine  ?  Don't  say  anything  about  the  trouble. 
Confound  and  curse  it !  if  one  gentleman  under  a  cloud,  is 
not  to  put  himself  a  little  out  of  the  way  to  assist  another 
gentleman  in  the  same  condition,  what's  human  nature?11 

Thus  spake  Mr.  Smangle,  edging  himself  meanwhile  as  near 
as  possible  to  the  portmanteau,  and  beaming  forth  looks  of 
the  most  fervent  and  disinterested  friendship. 

"  There's  nothing  you  want  to  give  out  for  the  man  to 
brush,  my  dear  creature,  is  there?"  resumed  Smangle. 

"Nothin1  whatever,  my  fine  feller,"  rejoined  Sam,  taking 
the  reply  into  his  own  mouth.  "  PVaps  if  vun  of  us  wos  to 
brush,  without  troubling  the  man,  it  'ud  be  more  agreeable 
for  all  parties,  as  the  schoolmaster  said  wen  the  young  gentle- 
man objected  to  being  flogged  by  the  butler." 

"And  there's  nothing  that  I  can  send  in  my  little  box  to 
the  washerwoman's,  is  there?"  said  Smangle,  turning  from 
Sam  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  an  air  of  some  discomfiture. 

"Nothin'  whatever,  sir,"  retorted  Sam;  "Pm  afeerd  the 
little  box  must  be  chock  full  o'  your  own  as  it  is." 

This  speech  was  accompanied  with  such  a  very  expressive 
look  at  that  particular  portion  of  Mr.  Smangle's  attire,  by 
the  appearance  of  which  the  skill  of  laundresses  in  getting 
up  gentlemen's  linen  is  generally  tested,  that  he  was  fain  to 
turn  upon  his  heel,  and,  for  the  present  at  any  rate,  to  give 
up  all  design  on  Mr.  Pickwick's  purse  and  wardrobe.  He 


LOOKING  FOR  A  LODGING.  219 

accordingly  retired  in  dudgeon  to  the  racket-ground,  where 
he  made  a  light  and  wholesome  breakfast  on  a  couple  of 
the  cigars  which  had  been  purchased  on  the  previous  night. 

Mr.  Mivins,  who  was  no  smoker,  and  whose  account  for 
small  articles  of  chandlery  had  also  reached  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  slate,  and  been  "carried  over""  to  the  other 
side,  remained  in  bed,  and,  in  his  own  words,  "  took  it  out 
in  sleep."" 

After  breakfasting  in  a  small  closet  attached  to  the  coffee- 
room,  which  bore  the  imposing  title  of  the  Snuggery;  the 
temporary  inmate  of  which,  in  consideration  of  a  small  addi- 
tional charge,  had  the  unspeakable  advantage  of  overhearing 
all  the  conversation  in  the  coffee-room  aforesaid;  and  after 
dispatching  Mr.  Weller  on  some  necessary  errands,  Mr.  Pick- 
wick repaired  to  the  Lodge,  to  consult  Mr.  Roker  concerning 
his  future  accommodation. 

"Accommodation,  eh?"  said  that  gentleman,  consulting  a 
large  book.  "  Plenty  of  that,  Mr.  Pickvick.  Your  chummage 
ticket  will  be  on  twenty-seven,  in  the  third." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.     "  My  what,  did  you  say  ?  " 

u  Your  chummage  ticket,"  replied  Mr.  Roker ;  "  you're  up 
to  that  ?  " 

"  Not  quite,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a  smile. 

"  Why,"  said  Mr.  Roker,  "  it's  as  plain  as  Salisbury.  You'll 
have  a  chummage  ticket  upon  twenty-seven  in  the  third, 
and  them  as  is  in  the  room  will  be  your  chums." 

"Are  there  many  of  them?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick, 
dubiously. 

"  Three,"  replied  Mr.  Roker. 

Mr.  Pickwick  coughed. 

"  One  of  ""em's  a  parson,"  said  Mr.  Roker,  filling  up  a  little 
piece  of  paper  as  he  spoke ;  "  another^  a  butcher." 

"  Eh  ? "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"A  butcher,"  repeated  Mr.  Roker,  giving  the  nib  of  his 
pen  a  tap  on  the  desk  to  cure  it  of  a  disinclination  to  mark. 
"  What  a  thorough-paced  goer  he  used  to  be  sure-ly !  You 


220  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

remember  Tom  Martin,  Neddy?11  said  Roker,  appealing  to 
another  man  in  the  lodge,  who  was  paring  the  mud  off  his 
shoes  with  a  five-and-twenty  bladed  pocket  knife. 

*'/  should  think  so,"  replied  the  party  addressed,  with  a 
strong  emphasis  on  the  personal  pronoun. 

"  Bless  my  dear  eyes ! "  said  Mr.  Roker,  shaking  his  head 
slowly  from  side  to  side,  and  gazing  abstractedly  out  of  the 
grated  windows  before  him,  as  if  he  were  fondly  recalling 
some  peaceful  scene  of  his  early  youth ;  "  it  seems  but  yester- 
day that  he  whopped  the  coal-heaver  down  Fox-under-the- 
Hill  by  the  wharf  there.  I  think  I  can  see  him  now,  a 
coming  up  the  Strand  between  the  two  street-keepers,  a  little 
sobered  by  the  bruising,  with  a  patch  o1  winegar  and  brown 
paper  over  his  right  eyelid,  and  that  'ere  lovely  bulldog,  as 
pinned  the  little  boy  arterwards,  a  following  at  his  heels. 
What  a  rum  thing  Time  is,  ain't  it,  Neddy?11 

The  gentleman  to  whom  these  observations  were  addressed, 
who  appeared  of  a  taciturn  and  thoughtful  cast,  merely  echoed 
the  inquiry ;  Mr.  Roker,  shaking  off  the  poetical  and  gloomy 
train  of  thought  into  which  he  had  been  betrayed,  descended 
to  the  common  business  of  life,  and  resumed  his  pen. 

"Do  you  know  what  the  third  gentleman  is?11  inquired 
Mr.  Pickwick,  not  very  much  gratified  by  this  description  of 
his  future  associates. 

"  What  is  that  Simpson,  Neddy  ? 11  said  Mr.  Roker,  turning 
to  his  companion. 

"What  Simpson?11  said  Neddy. 

"Why  him  in  twenty-seven  in  the  third,  that  this  gentle^ 
man's  going  to  be  chummed  on." 

"  Oh,  him ! "  replied  Neddy :  "  he's  nothing  exactly.  He  was 
a  horse  chaunter:  he's  a  leg  now." 

"Ah,  so  I  thought,"  rejoined  Mr.  Roker,  closing  the  book, 
and  placing  the  small  piece  of  paper  in  Mr.  Pickwick's  hands. 
"That's  the  ticket,  sir." 

Very  much  perplexed  by  this  summary  disposition  of  his 
person,  Mr.  Pickwick  walked  back  into  the  prison,  revolving 


DIRECTED  BY  A  POTBOY.  221 

in  his  mind  what  he  had  better  do.  Convinced,  however, 
that  before  he  took  any  other  steps  it  would  be  advisable  to 
see,  and  hold  personal  converse  with,  the  three  gentlemen 
with  whom  it  was  proposed  to  quarter  him,  he  made  the 
best  of  his  way  to  the  third  flight. 

After  groping  about  in  the  gallery  for  some  time,  attempt- 
ing in  the  dim  light  to  decipher  the  numbers  on  the  different 
doors,  he  at  length  appealed  to  a  potboy,  who  happened  to 
be  pursuing  his  morning  occupation  of  gleaning  for  pewter. 

"Which  is  twenty-seven,  my  good  fellow?"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Five  doors  further  on,"  replied  the  potboy.  "There^s 
the  likeness  of  a  man  being  hung,  and  smoking  a  pipe  the 
while,  chalked  outside  the  door." 

Guided  by  this  direction,  Mr.  Pickwick  proceeded  slowly 
along  the  gallery  until  he  encountered  the  "portrait  of  a 
gentleman,"  above  described,  upon  whose  countenance  he 
tapped,  with  the  knuckle  of  his  fore-finger  —  gently  at 
first,  and  then  audibly.  After  repeating  this  process  several 
times  without  effect,  he  ventured  to  open  the  door  and 
peep  in. 

There  was  only  one  man  in  the  room,  and  he  was  leaning 
out  of  window  as  far  as  he  could  without  overbalancing  himself, 
endeavouring,  with  great  perseverance,  to  spit  upon  the  crown 
of  the  hat  of  a  personal  friend  on  the  parade  below.  As 
neither  speaking,  coughing,  sneezing,  knocking,  nor  any  other 
ordinary  mode  of  attracting  attention,  made  this  person 
aware  of  the  presence  of  a  visitor,  Mr.  Pickwick,  after  some 
delay,  stepped  up  to  the  window,  and  pulled  him  gently  by 
the  coat-tail.  The  individual  brought  in  his  head  and 
shoulders  with  great  swiftness,  and  surveying  Mr.  Pickwick 
from  head  to  foot,  demanded  in  a  surly  tone  what  the — 
something  beginning  with  a  capital  H — he  wanted. 

"I  believe,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  consulting  his  ticket,  "I 
believe  this  is  twenty-seven  in  the  third  ? " 

"  Well  ? "  replied  the  gentleman. 


222  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  I  have  come  here  in  consequence  of  receiving  this  bit  of 
paper,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Hand  it  over,""  said  the  gentleman. 

Mr.  Pickwick  complied. 

"I  think  Roker  might  have  chummed  you  somewhere 
else,"  said  Mr.  Simpson  (for  it  was  the  leg),  after  a  very 
discontented  sort  of  a  pause. 

Mr.  Pickwick  thought  so  also;  but,  under  all  the  circum- 
stances, he  considered  it  a  matter  of  sound  policy  to  be  silent. 

Mr.  Simpson  mused  for  a  few  moments  after  this,  and 
then,  thrusting  his  head  out  of  the  window,  gave  a  shrill 
whistle,  and  pronounced  some  word  aloud,  several  times. 
What  the  word  was,  Mr.  Pickwick  could  not  distinguish ; 
but  he  rather  inferred  that  it  must  be  some  nickname  which 
distinguished  Mr.  Martin :  from  the  fact  of  a  great  number 
of  gentlemen  on  the  ground  below,  immediately  proceeding 
to  cry  "Butcher!"  in  imitation  of  the  tone  in  which  that 
useful  class  of  society  are  wont,  diurnally,  to  make  their 
presence  known  at  area  railings. 

Subsequent  occurrences  confirmed  the  accuracy  of  Mr. 
Pickwick's  impression ;  for,  in  a  few  seconds,  a  gentleman, 
prematurely  broad  for  his  years :  clothed  in  a  professional 
blue  jean  frock,  and  top-boots  with  circular  toes :  entered 
the  room  nearly  out  of  breath,  closely  followed  by  another 
gentleman  in  very  shabby  black,  and  a  seal-skin  cap.  The 
latter  gentleman,  who  fastened  his  coat  all  the  way  up  to  his 
chin  by  means  of  a  pin  and  a  button  alternately,  had  a  very 
coarse  red  face,  and  looked  like  a  drunken  chaplain ;  which, 
indeed,  he  was. 

These  two  gentlemen  having  by  turns  perused  Mr.  Pick- 
wick's billet,  the  one  expressed  his  opinion  that  it  was  "  a  rig," 
and  the  other  his  conviction  that  it  was  "  a  go."  Having 
recorded  their  feelings  in  these  very  intelligible  terms,  they 
looked  at  Mr.  Pickwick  and  each  other  in  awkward  silence. 

"It's  an  aggravating  thing,  just  as  we  got  the  beds  so 
snug,"  said  the  chaplain,  looking  at  three  dirty  mattresses, 


THE  ROOM  WAS  FILTHILY  DIRTY.        223 

each  rolled  up  in  a  blanket:  which  occupied  one  corner  of 
the  room  during  the  day,  and  formed  a  kind  of  slab,  on 
which  were  placed  an  old  cracked  basin,  ewer,  and  soap-dish, 
of  common  yellow  earthenware,  with  a  blue  flower:  "Very 
aggravating."" 

Mr.  Martin  expressed  the  same  opinion  in  rather  stronger 
terms ;  Mr.  Simpson,  after  having  let  a  variety  of  expletive 
adjectives  loose  upon  society  without  any  substantive  to  accom- 
pany them,  tucked  up  his  sleeves,  and  began  to  wash  the 
greens  for  dinner. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Mr.  Pickwick  had  been  eyeing 
the  room,  which  was  filthily  dirty,  and  smelt  intolerably 
close.  There  was  no  vestige  of  either  carpet,  curtain,  or 
blind.  There  was  not  even  a  closet  in  it.  Unquestionably 
there  were  but  few  things  to  put  away,  if  there  had  been 
one;  but,  however  few  in  number,  or  small  in  individual 
amount,  still,  remnants  of  loaves  and  pieces  of  cheese,  and 
damp  towels,  and  scrags  of  meat,  and  articles  of  wearing 
apparel,  and  mutilated  crockery,  and  bellows  without  nozzles, 
and  toasting-forks  without  prongs,  do  present  somewhat  of 
an  uncomfortable  appearance  when  they  are  scattered  about 
the  floor  of  a  small  apartment,  which  is  the  common  sitting 
and  sleeping  room  of  three  idle  men. 

"I  suppose  this  can  be  managed  somehow,"  said  the 
butcher,  after  a  pretty  long  silence.  "What  will  you  take 
to  go  out?" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "What  did 
you  say  ?  I  hardly  understand  you." 

"What  will  you  take  to  be  paid  out?"  said  the  butcher. 
"The  regular  chummage  is  two-and-six.  Will  you  take 
three  bob?" 

" — And  a  bender,"  suggested  the  clerical  gentleman. 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind  that ;  it's  only  twopence  a-piece  more," 
said  Mr.  Martin. 

"  What  do  you  say,  now  ?  We'll  pay  you  out  for  three- 
and-sixpence  a  week.  Come ! " 


224  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"And  stand  a  gallon  of  beer  down,"  chimed  in  Mr. 
Simpson.  "  There ! " 

"  And  drink  it  on  the  spot,11  said  the  chaplain.     "  Now ! " 

"  I  really  am  so  wholly  ignorant  of  the  rules  of  this  place,11 
returned  Mr.  Pickwick,  "that  I  do  not  yet  comprehend  you. 
Can  I  live  anywhere  else  ?  I  thought  I  could  not." 

At  this  inquiry  Mr.  Martin  looked,  with  a  countenance  of 
excessive  surprise,  at  his  two  friends,  and  then  each  gentleman 
pointed  with  his  right  thumb  over  his  left  shoulder.  This 
action,  imperfectly  described  in  words  by  the  very  feeble 
term  of  "  over  the  left,11  when  performed  by  any  number  of 
ladies  or  gentlemen  who  are  accustomed  to  act  in  unison, 
has  a  very  graceful  and  airy  effect ;  its  expression  is  one  of 
light  and  playful  sarcasm. 

"  Can  you  ! "  repeated  Mr.  Martin,  with  a  smile  of  pity. 

"Well,  if  I  knew  as  little  of  life  as  that,  I'd  eat  my 
hat  and  swallow  the  buckle  whole,11  said  the  clerical 
gentleman. 

"  So  would  I,11  added  the  sporting  one,  solemnly. 

After  this  introductory  preface,  the  three  chums  informed 
Mr.  Pickwick,  in  a  breath,  that  money  was,  in  the  Fleet, 
just  what  money  was  out  of  it;  that  it  would  instantly 
procure  him  almost  anything  he  desired ;  and  that,  supposing 
he  had  it,  and  had  no  objection  to  spend  it,  if  he  only 
signified  his  wish  to  have  a  room  to  himself,  he  might  take 
possession  of  one,  furnished  and  fitted  to  boot,  in  half  an 
hou^s  time. 

With  this,  the  parties  separated,  very  much  to  their  common 
satisfaction:  Mr.  Pickwick  once  more  retracing  his  steps  to 
the  lodge :  and  the  three  companions  adjourning  to  the 
coffee-room,  there  to  spend  the  five  shillings  which  the  clerical 
gentleman  had,  with  admirable  prudence  and  foresight,  bor- 
rowed of  him  for  the  purpose. 

"  I  knowed  it ! "  said  Mr.  Roker,  with  a  chuckle,  when  Mr. 
Pickwick  stated  the  object  with  which  he  had  returned. 
"Did^t  I  say  so,  Neddy?11 


LODGING  FOUND  AT  LAST.  225 

The  philosophical  owner  of  the  universal  penknife,  growled 
an  affirmative. 

"I  knowed  you'd  want  a  room  for  yourself,  bless  you!" 
said  Mr.  Roker.  "Let  me  sfce.  You'll  want  some  furnitur. 
You'll  hire  that  of  me,  I  suppose  ?  That's  the  reg'lar  thing." 

"With  great  pleasure,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"There's  a  capital  room  up  in  the  coffee-room  flight,  that 
belongs  to  a  Chancery  prisoner,"  said  Mr.  Roker.  "It'll 
stand  you  in  a  pound  a-week.  I  suppose  you  don't  mind 
that  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Just  step  there  with  me,"  said  Roker,  taking  up  his  hat 
with  great  alacrity;  "the  matter's  settled  in  five  minutes. 
Lord !  why  didn't  you  say  at  first  that  you  was  willing  to 
come  down  handsome?" 

The  matter  was  soon  arranged,  as  the  turnkey  had  foretold. 
The  Chancery  prisoner  had  been  there  long  enough  to  have 
lost  friends,  fortune,  home,  and  happiness,  and  to  have 
acquired  the  right  of  having  a  room  to  himself.  As  he 
laboured,  however,  under  the  inconvenience  of  often  wanting 
a  morsel  of  bread,  he  eagerly  listened  to  Mr.  Pickwick's  pro- 
posal to  rent  the  apartment,  and  readily  covenanted  and 
agreed  to  yield  him  up  the  sole  and  undisturbed  possession 
thereof,  in  consideration  of  the  weekly  payment  of  twenty 
shillings ;  from  which  fund  he  furthermore  contracted  to  pay 
out  any  person  or  persons  that  might  be  chummed  upon  it. 

As  they  struck  the  bargain,  Mr.  Pickwick  surveyed  him 
with  a  painful  interest.  He  was  a  tall,  gaunt,  cadaverous 
man,  in  an  old  great-coat  and  slippers :  with  sunken  cheeks, 
and  a  restless,  eager  eye.  His  lips  were  bloodless,  and  his 
bones  sharp  and  thin.  God  help  him!  the  iron  teeth  of 
confinement  and  privation  had  been  slowly  filing  him  down 
for  twenty  years. 

"And  where  will  you  live  meanvrtiile,  sir?"  said  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, as  he  laid  the  amount  of  the  fiyst  week's  rent,  in  advance, 
on  the  tottering  table. 

VOL.  ir.  Q 


226  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

The  man  gathered  up  the  money  with  a  trembling  hand, 
and  replied  that  he  didn't  know  yet ;  he  must  go  and  see 
where  he  could  move  his  bed  to. 

"I  am  afraid,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  laying  his  hand 
gently  and  compassionately  on  his  arm ;  "  I  am  afraid  you 
will  have  to  live  in  some  noisy  crowded  place.  Now,  pray, 
consider  this  room  your  own  when  you  want  quiet,  or  when 
any  of  your  friends  come  to  see  you.11 

"  Friends ! "  interposed  the  man,  in  a  voice  which  rattled 
in  his  throat.  "  If  I  lay  dead  at  the  bottom  of  the  deepest 
mine  in  the  world;  tight  screwed  down  and  soldered  in  my 
coffin;  rotting  in  the  dark  and  filthy  ditch  that  drags  its 
slime  along,  beneath  the  foundations  of  this  prison ;  I  could 
not  be  more  forgotten  or  unheeded  than  I  am  here.  I  am  a 
dead  man;  dead  to  society,  without  the  pity  they  bestow 
on  those  whose  souls  have  passed  to  judgment.  Friends  to 
see  me !  My  God !  I  have  sunk,  from  the  prime  of  life  into 
old  age,  in  this  place,  and  there  is  not  one  to  raise  his  hand 
above  my  bed  when  I  lie  dead  upon  it,  and  say,  'It  is  a 
blessing  he  is  gone!1'1 

The  excitement,  which  had  cast  an  unwonted  light  over 
the  man's  face,  while  he  spoke,  subsided  as  he  concluded; 
and,  pressing  his  withered  hands  together  in  a  hasty  and 
disordered  manner,  he  shuffled  from  the  room. 

"  Rides  rather  rusty,"  said  Mr.  Roker,  with  a  smile.  "  Ah ! 
they're  like  the  elephants.  They  feel  it  now  and  then,  and 
it  makes  'em  wild ! " 

Having  made  this  deeply-sympathising  remark,  Mr.  Roker 
entered  upon  his  arrangements  with  such  expedition,  that 
in  a  short  time  the  room  was  furnished  with  a  carpet,  six 
chairs,  a  table,  a  sofa  bedstead,  a  tea-kettle,  and  various 
small  articles,  on  hire,  at  the  very  reasonable  rate  of  seven- 
and-twenty  shillings  and  sixpence  per  week. 

"  Now,  is  there  anything  more  we  can  do  for  you  ?  "  inquired 
Mr.  Roker,  looking  round  with  great  satisfaction,  and  gaily 
chinking  the  first  week's  hire  in  his  closed  fist. 


THE  POOR  SIDE.  227 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  been  musing 
deeply  for  some  time.  "Are  there  any  people  here,  who  run 
on  errands,  and  so  forth  ? " 

"  Outside,  do  you  mean  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Roker. 

"Yes.  I  mean  who  are  able  to  go  outside.  Not 
prisoners." 

"Yes,  there  is,"  said  Roker.  " There's  an  unfortunate 
devil,  who  has  got  a  friend  on  the  poor  side,  that's  glad  to 
do  anything  of  that  sort.  He's  been  running  odd  jobs,  and 
that,  for  the  last  two  months.  Shall  I  send  him?" 

" If  you  please,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Stay;  no.  The 
poor  side,  you  say  ?  I  should  like  to  see  it.  I'll  go  to  him 
myself." 

The  poor  side  of  a  debtor's  prison,  is,  as  its  name  imports, 
that  in  which  the  most  miserable  and  abject  class  of  debtors 
are  confined.  A  prisoner  having  declared  upon  the  poor 
side,  pays  neither  rent  nor  chummage.  His  fees,  upon 
entering  and  leaving  the  gaol,  are  reduced  in  amount,  and 
he  becomes  entitled  to  a  share  of  some  small  quantities  of 
food :  to  provide  which,  a  few  charitable  persons  have,  from 
time  to  time,  left  trifling  legacies  in  their  wills.  Most  of 
our  readers  will  remember,  that,  until  within  a  very  few  years 
past,  there  was  a  kind  of  iron  cage  in  the  wall  of  the  Fleet 
Prison,  within  which  was  posted  some  man  of  hungry  looks, 
who,  from  time  to  time,  rattled  a  money-box,  and  exclaimed 
in  a  mournful  voice,  "Pray,  remember  the  poor  debtors; 
pray,  remember  the  poor  debtors."  The  receipts  of  this  box, 
when  there  were  any,  were  divided  among  the  poor  prisoners ; 
and  the  men  on  the  poor  side  relieved  each  other  in  this 
degrading  office. 

Although  this  custom  has  been  abolished,  and  the  cage  is 
now  boarded  up,  the  miserable  and  destitute  condition  of  these 
unhappy  persons  remains  the  same.  We  no  longer  suffer 
them  to  appeal  at  the  prison  gates  to  the  charity  and 
compassion  of  the  passers  by ;  but  we  still  leave  unblotted  in 
the  leaves  of  our  statute  book,  for  the  reverence  and  admiration 


228  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

of  succeeding  ages,  the  just  and  wholesome  law  which  declares 
that  the  sturdy  felon  shall  be  fed  and  clothed,  and  that  the 
penniless  debtor  shall  be  left  to  die  of  starvation  and 
nakedness.  This  is  no  fiction.  Not  a  week  passes  over 
our  heads,  but,  in  every  one  of  our  prisons  for  debt,  some  of 
these  men  must  inevitably  expire  in  the  slow  agonies  of  want, 
if  they  were  not  relieved  by  their  fellow-prisoners. 

Turning  these  things  in  his  mind,  as  he  mounted  the 
narrow  staircase  at  the  foot  of  which  Roker  had  left  him, 
Mr.  Pickwick  gradually  worked  himself  to  the  boiling-over 
point ;  and  so  excited  was  he  with  his  reflections  on  this 
subject,  that  he  had  burst  into  the  room  to  which  he  had 
been  directed,  before  he  had  any  distinct  recollection,  either 
of  the  place  in  which  he  was,  or  of  the  object  of  his  visit. 

The  general  aspect  of  the  room  recalled  him  to  himself  at 
once ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  cast  his  eyes  on  the  figure  of  a 
man  who  was  brooding  over  the  dusty  fire,  than,  letting  his 
hat  fall  on  the  floor,  he  stood  perfectly  fixed,  and  immoveablc, 
with  astonishment. 

Yes ;  in  tattered  garments,  and  without  a  coat ;  his  common 
calico  shirt,  yellow  and  in  rags ;  his  hair  hanging  over  his 
face;  his  features  changed  with  suffering,  and  pinched  with 
famine ;  there  sat  Mr.  Alfred  Jingle  :  his  head  resting  on  his 
hand,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fire,  and  his  whole  appearance 
denoting  misery  and  dejection  ! 

Near  him,  leaning  listlessly  against  the  wall,  stood  a  strong- 
built  countryman,  flicking  with  a  worn-out  hunting-whip  the 
top-boot  that  adorned  his  right  foot :  his  left  being  (for  he 
dressed  by  easy  stages)  thrust  into  an  old  slipper.  Horses, 
dogs,  and  drink,  had  brought  him  there,  pell-mell.  There  was 
a  rusty  spur  on  the  solitary  boot,  which  he  occasionally  jerked 
into  the  empty  air,  at  the  same  time  giving  the  boot  a  smart 
blow,  and  muttering  some  of  the  sounds  by  which  a  sportsman 
encourages  his  horse.  He  was  riding,  in  imagination,  some 
desperate  steeple-chase  at  that  moment.  Poor  wretch!  He 
never  rode  a  match  on  the  swiftest  animal  in  his  costly  stud, 


MR.  PICKWICK  AMAZED  AND  AFFECTED.    229 

with  half  the  speed  at  which  he  had  torn  along  the  course 
that  ended  in  the  Fleet. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  an  old  man  was  seated 
on  a  small  wooden  box,  with  his  eyes  rivetted  on  the  floor, 
and  his  face  settled  into  an  expression  of  the  deepest  and 
most  hopeless  despair.  A  young  girl — his  little  grand-daughter 
— was  hanging  about  him :  endeavouring,  with  a  thousand 
childish  devices,  to  engage  his  attention;  but  the  old  man 
neither  saw  nor  heard  her.  The  voice  that  had  been  music 
to  him,  and  the  eyes  that  had  been  light,  fell  coldly  on  his 
senses.  His  limbs  were  shaking  with  disease,  and  the  palsy 
had  fastened  on  his  mind. 

There  were  two  or  three  other  men  in  the  room,  congre- 
gated in  a  little  knot,  and  noisily  talking  among  themselves. 
There  was  a  lean  and  haggard  woman,  too — a  prisoner's 
wife — who  was  watering,  with  great  solicitude,  the  wretched 
stump  of  a  dried-up,  withered  plant,  which,  it  was  plain 
to  see,  could  never  send  forth  a  green  leaf  again ; — too 
true  an  emblem,  perhaps,  of  the  office  she  had  come  there 
to  discharge. 

Such  were  the  objects  which  presented  themselves  to  Mr. 
Pickwick's  view,  as  he  looked  round  him  in  amazement.  The 
noise  of  some  one  stumbling  hastily  into  the  room,  roused 
him.  Turning  his  eyes  towards  the  door,  they  encountered 
the  new  comer;  and  in  him,  through  his  rags  and  dirt,  he 
recognised  the  familiar  features  of  Mr.  Job  Trotter. 

"  Mr.  Pickwick  ! "  exclaimed  Job  aloud. 

"  Eh  ? "  said  Jingle,  starting  from  his  seat.  "  Mr.  ! 

So  it  is — queer  place — strange  thing — serves  me  right — very." 
Mr.  Jingle  thrust  his  hands  into  the  place  where  his  trousers 
pockets  used  to  be,  and,  dropping  his  chin  upon  his  breast, 
sank  back  into  his  chair. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  affected;  the  two  men  looked  so  very 
miserable.  The  sharp  involuntary  glance  Jingle  had  cast  at  a 
small  piece  of  raw  loin  of  mutton,  which  Job  had  brought  in 
with  him,  said  more  of  their  reduced  state  than  two  hours' 


230  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

explanation  could  have  done.  Mr.  Pickwick  looked  mildly  at 
Jingle,  and  said : 

"I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  in  private.  Will  you  step 
out  for  an  instant  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Jingle,  rising  hastily.  "  Can't  step  far — no 
danger  of  over-walking  yourself  here — Spike  park — grounds 
pretty — romantic,  but  not  extensive — open  for  public  inspec- 
tion— family  always  in  town — housekeeper  desperately  careful 
— very." 

"You  have  forgotten  your  coat,""  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  as 
they  walked  out  to  the  staircase,  and  closed  the  door  after 
them. 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  Jingle.  "  Spout — dear  relation — uncle  Tom 
— couldn't  help  it — must  eat,  you  know.  Wants  of  nature 
— and  all  that." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Gone,  my  dear  sir — last  coat — can't  help  it.  Lived  on  a 
pair  of  boots — whole  fortnight.  Silk  umbrella — ivory  handle 
— week — fact — honour — ask  Job — knows  it." 

"Lived  for  three  weeks  upon  a  pair  of  boots,  and  a  silk 
umbrella  with  an  ivory  handle!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick, 
who  had  only  heard  of  such  things  in  shipwrecks,  or  read  of 
them  in  Constable's  Miscellany. 

"True,"  said  Jingle,  nodding  his  head.  "Pawnbroker's 
shop — duplicates  here — small  sums — mere  nothing — all  rascals." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  much  relieved  by  this  explanation ; 
"I  understand  you.  You  have  pawned  your  wardrobe." 

"Everything — Job's  too — all  shirts  gone — never  mind — 
saves  washing.  Nothing  soon — lie  in  bed — starve — die — 
Inquest — little  bone-house — poor  prisoner — common  necessaries 
—hush  it  up — gentlemen  of  the  jury — warden's  tradesmen — 
keep  it  snug — natural  death — coroner's  order — workhouse 
funeral — serve  him  right — all  over — drop  the  curtain." 

Jingle  delivered  this  singular  summary  of  his  prospects  in 
life,  with  his  accustomed  volubility,  and  with  various  twitches 
of  the  countenance  to  counterfeit  smiles.  Mr.  Pickwick  easily 


PRACTICAL  SYMPATHY.  231 

perceived  that  his  recklessness  was  assumed,  and  looking  him 
full,  but  not  unkindly,  in  the  face,  saw  that  his  eyes  were 
moist  with  tears. 

"  Good  fellow,"  said  Jingle,  pressing  his  hand,  and  turning 
his  head  away.  "  Ungrateful  dog — boyish  to  cry — can't  help 
it — bad  fever — weak — ill — hungry.  Deserved  it  all — but 
suffered  much — very."  Wholly  unable  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances any  longer,  and  perhaps  rendered  worse  by  the  effort 
he  had  made,  the  dejected  stroller  sat  down  on  the  stairs, 
and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  sobbed  like  a  child. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  considerable  emo- 
tion, "well  see  what  can  be  done,  when  I  know  all  about 
the  matter.  Here,  Job;  where  is  that  fellow ?" 

"  Here,  sir,"  replied  Job,  presenting  himself  on  the  staircase. 
We  have  described  him,  by-the-bye,  as  having  deeply-sunken 
eyes,  in  the  best  of  times.  In  his  present  state  of  want  and 
distress,  he  looked  as  if  those  features  had  gone  out  of  town 
altogether. 

"  Here,  sir,"  cried  Job. 

"  Come  here,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  trying  to  look  stern, 
with  four  large  tears  running  down  his  waistcoat.  "Take 
that,  sir." 

Take  what  ?  In  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  such  language, 
it  should  have  been  a  blow.  As  the  world  runs,  it  ought  to 
have  been  a  sound,  hearty  cuff;  for  Mr.  Pickwick  had  been 
duped,  deceived,  and  wronged  by  the  destitute  outcast  who 
was  now  wholly  in  his  power.  Must  we  tell  the  truth?  It 
was  something  from  Mr.  Pickwick's  waistcoat-pocket,  which 
chinked  as  it  was  given  into  Job's  hand,  and  the  giving  of 
which,  somehow  or  other  imparted  a  sparkle  to  the  eye,  and 
a  swelling  to  the  heart,  of  our  excellent  old  friend,  as  he 
hurried  away. 

Sam  had  returned  when  Mr.  Pickwick  reached  his  own  room, 
and  was  inspecting  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made  for 
his  comfort,  with  a  kind  of  grim  satisfaction  which  was  very 
pleasant  to  look  upon.  Having  a  decided  objection  to  his 


232  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

master's  being  there  at  all,  Mr.  Weller  appeared  to  consider 
it  a  high  moral  duty  not  to  appear  too  much  pleased  with 
anything  that  was  done,  said,  suggested,  or  proposed. 

"Well,  Sam,1'  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

«  Well,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Pretty  comfortable  now,  eh,  Sam  ?  " 

"  Pretty  veil,  sir,"  responded  Sam,  looking  round  him  in  a 
disparaging  manner. 

"Have  you  seen  Mr.  Tupman  and  our  other  friends?1" 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  "em,  sir,  and  they're  a  comin'  to-morrow, 
and  wos  wery  much  surprised  to  hear  they  warn't  to  come 
to-day,"  replied  Sam. 

"You  have  brought  the  things  I  wanted?" 

Mr.  Weller  in  reply  pointed  to  various  packages  which 
he  had  arranged,  as  neatly  as  he  could,  in  a  corner  of  the 
room. 

"  Very  well,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  after  a  little  hesita- 
tion ;  "  listen  to  what  I  am  going  to  say,  Sam." 

"  Cert'nly,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller,  "  fire  away,  sir." 

"  I  have  felt  from  the  first,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with 
much  solemnity,  "  that  this  is  not  the  place  to  bring  a  young 
man  to." 

"  Nor  an  old  'un  neither,  sir,"  observed  Mr.  Weller. 

"  You're  quite  right,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  but  old 
men  may  come  here,  through  their  own  heedlessness  and 
unsuspicion :  and  young  men  may  be  brought  here  by  the 
selfishness  of  those  they  serve.  It  is  better  for  those  young 
men,  in  every  point  of  view,  that  they  should  not  remain 
here.  Do  you  understand  me,  Sam  ?  " 

"Vy  no,  sir,  I  do  NOT,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  doggedly. 

"Try,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Veil,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam,  after  a  short  pause,  "I  think  I 
see  your  drift;  and  if  I  do  see  your  drift,  it's  my  'pinion 
that  you  're  a  comin'  it  a  great  deal  too  strong,  as  the  mail- 
coachman  said  to  the  snow-storm,  ven  it  overtook  him." 

"I  see  you   comprehend   me,   Sam,"   said    Mr.    Pickwick. 


MASTER  AND  MAN  SEPARATED.  233 

"Independently  of  my  wish  that  you  should  not  be  idling 
about  a  place  like  this,  for  years  to  come,  I  feel  that  for  a 
debtor  in  the  Fleet  to  be  attended  by  his  man-servant  is  a 
monstrous  absurdity.  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "for  a  time, 
you  must  leave  me." 

"Oh,  for  a  time,  eh,  sir?"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller,  rather 
sarcastically. 

"Yes,  for  the  time  that  I  remain  here,"  said  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. "  Your  wages  I  shall  continue  to  pay.  Any  one  of  my 
three  friends  will  be  happy  to  take  you,  were  it  only  out  of 
respect  to  me.  And  if  I  ever  do  leave  this  place,  Sam," 
added  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  assumed  cheerfulness :  "  if  I  do,  I 
pledge  you  my  word  that  you  shall  return  to  me  instantly." 

"Now  Til  tell  you  wot  it  is,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  in  a 
grave  and  solemn  voice,  "  This  here  sort  o'  thing  won't  do  at 
all,  so  don^t  let's  hear  no  more  about  it." 

"I  am  serious,  and  resolved,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"You  air,  air  you,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller,  firmly. 
"  Wery  good,  sir.  Then  so  am  I." 

Thus  speaking,  Mr.  Weller  fixed  his  hat  on  his  head  with 
great  precision,  and  abruptly  left  the  room. 

"Sam!"  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  calling  after  him,  "Sam! 
Here!" 

But  the  long  gallery  ceased  to  re-echo  the  sound  of  footsteps. 
Sam  Weller  was  gone. 


I  :y,^:  CHAPTER    XLIII. 

SHOWING    HOW   MR.  SAMUEL   WELLER   GOT   INTO    DIFFICULTIES. 

IN  a  lofty  room,  ill-lighted  and  worse  ventilated,  situate  in 
Portugal  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  there  sit  nearly  the 
whole  year  round,  one,  two,  three,  or  four  gentlemen  in  wigs, 
as  the  case  may  be,  with  little  writing  desks  before  them, 
constructed  after  the  fashion  of  those  used  by  the  judges  of 
the  land,  barring  the  French  polish.  There  is  a  box  of 
barristers  on  their  right  hand ;  there  is  an  inclosure  of  insolvent 
debtors  on  their  left ;  and  there  is  an  inclined  plane  of  most 
especially  dirty  faces  in  their  front.  These  gentlemen  are 
the  Commissioners  of  the  Insolvent  Court,  and  the  place  in 
which  they  sit,  is  the  Insolvent  Court  itself. 

It  is,  and  has  been,  time  out  of  mind,  the  remarkable  fate 
of  this  Court  to  be,  somehow  or  other,  held  and  understood, 
by  the  general  consent  of  all  the  destitute  shabby-genteel 
people  in  London,  as  their  common  resort,  and  place  of  daily 
refuge.  It  is  always  full.  The  steams  of  beer  and  spirits 
perpetually  ascend  to  the  ceiling,  and,  being  condensed  by 
the  heat,  roll  down  the  walls  like  rain;  there  are  more  old 
suits  of  clothes  in  it  at  one  time,  than  will  be  offered  for 
sale  in  all  Houndsditch  in  a  twelvemonth;  more  unwashed 
skins  and  grizzly  beards  than  all  the  pumps  and  shaving-shops 
between  Tyburn  and  Whitechapel  could  render  decent, 
between  sunrise  and  sunset. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  any  of  these  people  have  the 


THE  INSOLVENT  COURT.  235 

least  shadow  of  business  in,  or  the  remotest  connection  with, 
the  place  they  so  indefatigably  attend.  If  they  had,  it  would 
be  no  matter  of  surprise,  and  the  singularity  of  the  thing 
would  cease.  Some  of  them  sleep  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  sitting;  others  carry  small  portable  dinners  wrapped  in 
pocket-handkerchiefs  or  sticking  out  of  their  worn-out  pockets, 
and  munch  and  listen  with  equal  relish;  but  no  one  among 
them  was  ever  known  to  have  the  slightest  personal  interest 
in  any  case  that  was  ever  brought  forward.  Whatever  they 
do,  there  they  sit  from  the  first  moment  to  the  last.  When 
it  is  heavy  rainy  weather,  they  all  come  in,  wet  through ;  and 
at  such  times  the  vapours  of  the  Court  are  like  those  of  a 
fungus-pit. 

A  casual  visitor  might  suppose  this  place  to  be  a  Temple 
dedicated  to  the  Genius  of  Seediness.  There  is  not  a  messenger 
or  process-server  attached  to  it,  who  wears  a  coat  that  was 
made  for  him;  not  a  tolerably  fresh,  or  wholesome-looking 
man  in  the  whole  establishment,  except  a  little  white-headed 
apple-faced  tipstaff,  and  even  he,  like  an  ill-conditioned  cherry 
preserved  in  brandy,  seems  to  have  artificially  dried  and 
withered  up  into  a  state  of  preservation  to  which  he  can  lay 
no  natural  claim.  The  very  barristers  wigs  are  ill-powdered, 
and  their  curls  lack  crispness. 

But  the  attorneys,  who  sit  at  a  large  bare  table  below  the 
Commissioners,  are,  after  all,  the  greatest  curiosities.  The 
professional  establishment  of  the  more  opulent  of  these 
gentlemen,  consists  of  a  blue  bag  and  a  boy:  generally  a 
youth  of  the  Jewish  persuasion.  They  have  no  fixed  offices, 
their  legal  business  being  transacted  in  the  parlours  of 
public-houses,  or  the  yards  of  prisons :  whither  they  repair  in 
crowds,  and  canvass  for  customers  after  the  manner  of  omnibus 
cads.  They  are  of  a  greasy  and  mildewed  appearance;  and 
if  they  can  be  said  to  have  any  vices  at  all,  perhaps  drinking 
and  cheating  are  the  most  conspicuous  among  them.  Their 
residences  are  usually  on  the  outskirts  of  "  the  Rules,"  chiefly 
lying  within  a  circle  of  one  mile  from  the  obelisk  in  St. 


236  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

George's  Fields.  Their  looks  are  not  prepossessing,  and  their 
manners  are  peculiar. 

Mr.  Solomon  Pell,  one  of  this  learned  body,  was  a  fat  flabby 
pale  man,  in  a  surtout  which  looked  green  one  minute  and 
brown  the  next :  with  a  velvet  collar  of  the  same  cameleon 
tints.  His  forehead  was  narrow,  his  face  wide,  his  head  large, 
and  his  nose  all  on  one  side,  as  if  Nature,  indignant  with  the 
propensities  she  observed  in  him  in  his  birth,  had  given  it  an 
angry  tweak  which  it  had  never  recovered.  Being  short-necked 
and  asthmatic,  however,  he  respired  principally  through  this 
feature ;  so,  perhaps,  what  it  wanted  in  ornament,  it  made  up 
in  usefulness, 

"  I'm  sure  to  bring  him  through  it,"  said  Mr.  Pell. 

"Are  you  though?1"  replied  the  person  to  whom  the 
assurance  was  pledged. 

"Certain  sure,"  replied  Pell;  "but  if  he'd  gone  to  any 
irregular  practitioner,  mind  you,  I  wouldn't  have  answered  for 
the  consequences." 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  other,  with  open  mouth. 

"  No,  that  I  wouldn't,"  said  Mr.  Pell ;  and  he  pursed  up  his 
lips,  frowned,  and  shook  his  head  mysteriously. 

Now,  the  place  where  this  discourse  occurred,  was  the 
public-house  just  opposite  to  the  Insolvent  Court ;  and  the 
person  with  whom  it  was  held,  was  no  other  than  the  elder 
Mr.  Weller,  who  had  come  there,  to  comfort  and  console  a 
friend,  whose  petition  to  be  discharged  under  the  act,  was  to 
be  that  day  heard,  and  whose  attorney  he  was  at  that  moment 
consulting. 

"  And  vere  is  George  ? "  inquired  the  old  gentleman. 

Mr.  Pell  jerked  his  head  in  the  direction  of  a  back  parlour : 
whither  Mr.  Weller  at  once  repairing,  was  immediately 
greeted  in  the  warmest  and  most  flattering  manner  by  some 
half-dozen  of  his  professional  brethren,  in  token  of  their 
gratification  at  his  arrival.  The  insolvent  gentleman,  who 
had  contracted  a  speculative  but  imprudent  passion  for  horsing 
long  stages,  which  had  led  to  his  present  embarrassments, 


MR.  SOLOMON  PELL.  237 

looked  extremely  well,  and  was  soothing  the  excitement  of  his 
feelings  with  shrimps  and  porter. 

The  salutation  between  Mr.  Weller  and  his  friends  was 
strictly  confined  to  the  freemasonry  of  the  craft ;  consisting  of 
a  jerking  round  of  the  right  wrist,  and  a  tossing  of  the  little 
finger  into  the  air  at  the  same  time.  We  once  knew  two 
famous  coachmen  (they  are  dead  now,  poor  fellows)  who  were 
twins,  and  between  whom  an  unaffected  and  devoted 
attachment  existed.  They  passed  each  other  on  the  Dover 
road,  every  day,  for  twenty-four  years,  never  exchanging  any 
other  greeting  than  this ;  and  yet,  when  one  died,  the  other 
pined  away,  and  soon  afterwards  followed  him ! 

"Veil,  George,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  senior,  taking  off  his 
upper  coat,  and  seating  himself  with  his  accustomed  gravity. 
"  How  is  it  ?  All  right  behind,  and  full  inside  ?" 

"  All  right,  old  feller,"  replied  the  embarrassed  gentleman. 

"  Is  the  grey  mare  made  over  to  any  body  ? "  inquired  Mr. 
Weller,  anxiously. 

George  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Veil,  that's  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Weller.  "  Coach  taken 
care  on,  also?" 

"Con-signed  in  a  safe  quarter,"  replied  George,  wringing 
the  heads  off  half-a-dozen  shrimps,  and  swallowing  them 
without  any  more  ado. 

"Wery  good,  wery  good,"  said  Mr.  Weller.  "Alvays  sec 
to  the  drag  ven  you  go  down  hill.  Is  the  vay-bill  all  clear 
and  straight  for^erd?"" 

"The  schedule,  sir,"  said  Pell,  guessing  at  Mr.  Welters 
meaning,  "the  schedule  is  as  plain  and  satisfactory  as  pen 
and  ink  can  make  it." 

Mr.  Weller  nodded  in  a  manner  which  bespoke  his  inward 
approval  of  these  arrangements;  and  then,  turning  to  Mr. 
Pell,  said,  pointing  to  his  friend  George : 

"Ven  do  you  take  his  cloths  off?" 

"  Why,"  replied  Mr.  Pell,  "  he  stands  third  on  the  opposed 
list,  and  I  should  think  it  would  be  his  turn  in  about  half 


238  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

an  hour.  I  told  my  clerk  to  come  over  and  tell  us  when 
there  was  a  chance.11 

Mr.  Weller  surveyed  the  attorney  from  head  to  foot  with 
great  admiration,  and  said  emphatically : 

"And  what'll  you  take,  sir?" 

"Why, ~:  really,"  replied  Mr.  Pell,  "you're  very .  Upon 

my  word  and  honour,  I'm  not  in  the  habit  of .  It's 

so  very  early  in  the  morning,  that,  actually,  I  am  almost . 

Well,  you  may  bring  me  three  penn'orth  of  rum,  my  dear." 

The  officiating  damsel,  who  had  anticipated  the  order 
before  it  was  given,  set  the  glass  of  spirits  before  Pell, 
and  retired. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pell,  looking  round  upon  the 
company,  "  Success  to  your  friend !  I  don't  like  to  boast, 
gentlemen ;  it's  not  my  way ;  but  I  can't  help  saying,  that,  if 
your  friend  hadn't  been  fortunate  enough  to  fall  into  hands 

that but  I  won't  say  what  I  was  going  to  say.  Gentlemen, 

my  service  to  you."  Having  emptied  the  glass  in  a  twinkling, 
Mr.  Pell  smacked  his  lips,  and  looked  complacently  round  on 
the  assembled  coachmen,  who  evidently  regarded  him  as  a 
species  of  divinity. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  the  legal  authority.  "What  was 
I  a-saying,  gentlemen?" 

"I  think  you  was  remarkin'  as  you  wouldn't  have  no 
objection  to  another  o'  the  same,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with 
grave  facetiousness. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Mr.  Pell.  "Not  bad,  not  bad.  A 
professional  man,  too !  At  this  time  of  the  morning,  it  would 

be  rather  too  good  a .  Well,  I  don't  know,  my  dear — 

you  may  do  that  again,  if  you  please.  Hem ! " 

This  last  sound  was  a  solemn  and  dignified  cough,  in  which 
Mr.  Pell  observing  an  indecent  tendency  to  mirth  in  some 
of  his  auditors,  considered  it  due  to  himself  to  indulge. 

"The  late  Lord  Chancellor,  gentlemen,  was  very  fond  of 
me,"  said  Mr.  Pell. 

"And  wery  creditable  in  him,  too,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller. 


MR.   PELL'S  NOBLE  FRIEND.  239 

"Hear,  hear,"  assented  Mr.  Pell's  client.  "Why  shouldn't 
he  be  ?  " 

"  Ah !  Why,  indeed ! "  said  a  very  red-faced  man,  who 
had  said  nothing  yet,  and  who  looked  extremely  unlikely  to 
say  anything  more.  "Why  shouldn't  he?" 

A  murmur  of  assent  ran  through  the  company. 

"  I  remember,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pell,  "  dining  with 
him  on  one  occasion ; — there  was  only  us  two,  but  every  thing 
as  splendid  as  if  twenty  people  had  been  expected — the  great 
seal  on  a  dumb-waiter  at  his  right  hand,  and  a  man  in  a 
bag- wig  and  suit  of  armour  guarding  the  mace  with  a  drawn 
sword  and  silk  stockings — which  is  perpetually  done,  gentlemen, 
night  and  day  ;  when  he  said,  <  Pell,'  he  said, '  no  false  delicacy, 
Pell.  You're  a  man  of  talent ;  you  can  get  any  body  through 
the  Insolvent  Court,  Pell ;  and  your  country  should  be  proud 
of  you.'  Those  were  his  very  words.  'My  Lord,'  I  said, 
'you  flatter  me.'— 'Pell,'  he  said,  'if  I  do,  I'm  damned.'" 

"Did  he  say  that?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"  He  did,"  replied  Pell. 

"  Veil,  then,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  I  say  Parliament  ought  to 
ha'  took  it  up ;  and  if  he'd  been  a  poor  man,  they  would  ha' 
done  it." 

"But,  my  dear  friend,"  argued  Mr.  Pell,  "it  was  in 
confidence." 

"  In  what  ?  "  said  Mr.  Weller. 

"In  confidence." 

"  Oh  !  wery  good,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  after  a  little  reflection. 
If  he  damned  his-self  in  confidence,  o'  course  that  was 
another  thing." 

"Of  course  it  was,"  said  Mr.  Pell.  "The  distinction's 
obvious,  you  will  perceive." 

"  Alters  the  case  entirely,"  said  Mr.  Weller.     "  Go  on,  sir." 

"  No,  I  will  not  go  on,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pell,  in  a  low  and 
serious  tone.  "You  have  reminded  me,  sir,  that  this  conver- 
sation was  private — private  and  confidential,  gentlemen. 
Gentlemen,  I  am  a  professional  man.  It  may  be  that  I  am  a 


240  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

good  deal  looked  up  to,  in  my  profession — it  may  be  that  I 
am  not.  Most  people  know.  I  say  nothing.  Observations 
have  already  been  made,  in  this  room,  injurious  to  the 
reputation  of  my  noble  friend.  You  will  excuse  me,  gentle- 
men ;  I  was  imprudent.  I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  mention 
this  matter  without  his  concurrence.  Thank  you,  sir;  thank 
you.""  Thus  delivering  himself,  Mr.  Pell  thrust  his  hands 
into  his  pockets,  and,  frowning  grimly  around,  rattled  three- 
halfpence  with  terrible  determination. 

This  virtuous  resolution  had  scarcely  been  formed,  when  the 
boy  and  the  blue  bag,  who  were  inseparable  companions, 
rushed  violently  into  the  room,  and  said  (at  least  the  boy  did, 
for  the  blue  bag  took  no  part  in  the  announcement)  that  the 
case  was  coming  on  directly.  The  intelligence  was  no  sooner 
received  than  the  whole  party  hurried  across  the  street,  and 
began  to  fight  their  way  into  Court — a  preparatory  ceremony, 
which  has  been  calculated  to  occupy,  in  ordinary  cases,  from 
twenty-five  minutes  to  thirty. 

Mr.  Weller,  being  stout,  cast  himself  at  once  into  the 
crowd,  with  the  desperate  hope  of  ultimately  turning  up  in 
some  place  which  would  suit  him.  His  success  was  not  quite 
equal  to  his  expectations ;  for  having  neglected  to  take  his 
hat  off,  it  was  knocked  over  his  eyes  by  some  unseen  person, 
upon  whose  toes  he  had  alighted  with  considerable  force. 
Apparently,  this  individual  regretted  his  impetuosity  im- 
mediately afterwards;  for,  muttering  an  indistinct  exclama- 
tion of  surprise,  he  dragged  the  old  man  out  into  the  hall, 
and,  after  a  violent  struggle,  released  his  head  and  face. 

"Samivel!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller,  when  he  was  thus 
enabled  to  behold  his  rescuer. 

Sam  nodded. 

"  YouVe  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  little  boy,  you  are,  ain't 
you  ? "  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  to  come  a  bonnetin1  your  father 
in  his  old  age  ? " 

"How  should  I  know  who  you  wos?"  responded  the  son. 
"  Do  you  s'pose  I  wos  to  tell  you  by  the  weight  o1  your  foot  ? " 


FATHER  AND  SON.  241 

"Veil,  that's  wery  true,  Sammy/'  replied  Mr.  Weller, 
mollified  at  once ;  "  but  wot  are  you  a  doin'  on  here  ?  Your 
gov'nor  can't  do  no  good  here,  Sammy.  They  won't  pass 
that  werdick,  they  won't  pass  it,  Sammy.1'  And  Mr.  Weller 
shook  his  head,  with  legal  solemnity. 

"Wot  a  perwerse  old  file  it  is!"  exclaimed  Sam,  "alvays 
n  goin'  on  about  werdicks  and  alleybis,  and  that.  Who  said 
anything  about  the  werdick  ?  " 

Mr.  Weller  made  no  reply,  but  once  more  shook  his  head 
most  learnedly. 

"Leave  off  rattiin'  that  'ere  nob  o'  yourn,  if  you  don't 
want  it  to  come  off  the  springs  altogether,"  said  Sam  im- 
patiently, "  and  behave  reasonable.  I  vent  all  the  vay  down 
to  the  Markis  o'  Granby,  arter  you,  last  night." 

"  Did  you  see  the  Marchioness  o'  Granby,  Sammy  ?  "  inquired 
Mr.  Weller,  with  a  sigh. 

"Yes,  I  did,"  replied  Sam. 

"  How  wos  the  dear  creetur  a  lookin'  ? " 

"Wery  queer,"  said  Sam.  "I  think  she's  a  injurin'  herself 
gradivally  vith  too  much  o'  that  'ere  pine-apple  rum,  and 
other  strong  medicines  o'  the  same  natur." 

"  You  don't  mean  that,  Sammy  ?  "  said  the  senior,  earnestly. 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  replied  the  junior. 

Mr.  Weller  seized  his  son's  hand,  clasped  it,  and  let  it 
fall.  There  was  an  expression  on  his  countenance  in  doing 
so — not  of  dismay  or  apprehension,  but  partaking  more  of 
the  sweet  and  gentle  character  of  hope.  A  gleam  of  resig- 
nation, and  even  of  cheerfulness,  passed  over  his  face  too,  as 
he  slowly  said,  "I  ain't  quite  certain,  Sammy;  I  wouldn't 
like  to  say  I  wos  altogether  positive,  in  case  of  any  subsekent 
disappintment,  but  I  rayther  think,  my  boy,  I  rayther  think, 
that  the  shepherd's  got  the  liver  complaint ! " 

"  Does  he  look  bad  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"He's  uncommon  pale,"  replied  his  father,  "'cept  about 
the  nose,  wich  is  redder  than  ever.  His  appetite  is  wery  so-so, 
but  he  imbibes  wunderful." 


242  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Some  thoughts  of  the  rum  appeared  to  obtrude  themselves 
on  Mr.  Welle^s  mind,  as  he  said  this ;  for  he  looked  gloomy 
and  thoughtful;  but  he  very  shortly  recovered,  as  was  testi- 
fied by  a  perfect  alphabet  of  winks,  in  which  he  was  only 
wont  to  indulge  when  particularly  pleased. 

"  Veil,  now,11  said  Sam,  "  about  my  affair.  Just  open  them 
ears  o'  yourn,  and  don't  say  nothin'  till  I've  done."  With 
this  brief  preface,  Sam  related,  as  succinctly  as  he  could,  the 
last  memorable  conversation  he  had  had  with  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Stop  there  by  himself,  poor  creetur ! "  exclaimed  the  elder 
Mr.  Weller,  "  without  nobody  to  take  his  part !  It  can't  be 
done,  Samivel,  it  can't  be  done." 

"  O'  course  it  can't,"  asserted  Sam :  "  I  know'd  that,  afore 
I  came." 

"Wy,  they'll  eat  him  up  alive,  Sammy,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Weller. 

Sam  nodded  his  concurrence  in  the  opinion. 

"  He  goes  in  rayther  raw,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller 
metaphorically,  "  and  he'll  come  out,  done  so  ex-ceedin'  brown, 
that  his  most  familiar  friends  won't  know  him.  Roast  pigeon's 
nothin'  to  it,  Sammy." 

Again  Sam  Weller  nodded. 

"It  oughtn't  to  be,  Samivel,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  gravely. 

"  It  mustn't  be,"  said  Sam. 

"  Cert'nly  not,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 

"Veil  now,"  said  Sam,  "you've  been  a  prophecyin'  away, 
wery  fine,  like  a  red-faced  Nixon  as  the  sixpenny  books  gives 
picters  on." 

"Who  wos  he,  Sammy?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"Never  mind  who  he  was,"  retorted  Sam;  "he  warn't  a 
coachman;  that's  enough  for  you." 

"  I  know'd  a  ostler  o'  that  name,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  musing. 

"It  warn't  him,"  said  Sam.  "This  here  gen'l'm'n  was  a 
prophet." 

"  Wot's  a  prophet  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Weller,  looking  sternly 
on  his  son. 


MR.  WELLER  BECOMES  A  BORROWER.     243 

"  Wy,  a  man  as  tells  what's  a  goin'  to  happen,"  replied  Sam. 

"  I  wish  Fd  know'd  him,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 
"  P'raps  he  might  ha1  throw'd  a  small  light  on  that  "ere  liver 
complaint  as  we  wos  a  speakin'  on,  just  now.  Hows'ever,  if 
he's  dead,  and  ain't  left  the  bisness  to  nobody,  there's  an  end 
on  it.  Go  on,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  "  you've  been  a  prophecyin'  avay,  about 
wot'li  happen  to  the  gov'nor  if  he's  left  alone.  Don't  you 
see  any  vay  o*  takin'  care  on  him?" 

"  No,  I  don't,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  a  reflective 
visage. 

"No  vay  at  all?"  inquired  Sam. 

"No  vay,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "unless" — and  a  gleam  of 
intelligence  lighted  up  his  countenance  as  he  sunk  his  voice 
to  a  whisper,  and  applied  his  mouth  to  the  ear  of  his  offspring : 
"unless  it  is  getting  him  out  in  a  turn-up  bedstead, 
unbeknown  to  the  turnkeys,  Sammy,  or  dressin'  him  up  like 
a  old  'ooman  vith  a  green  wail." 

Sam  Weller  received  both  of  these  suggestions  with  un- 
expected contempt,  and  again  propounded  his  question. 

"No,"  said  the  old  gentleman;  "if  he  von't  let  you  stop 
there,  I  see  no  vay  at  all.  It's  no  thoroughfare,  Sammy,  no 
thoroughfare." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  wot  it  is,"  said  Sam,  "  Til  trouble 
you  for  the  loan  of  five-and-twenty  pound." 

"Wot  good  'ull  that  do?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Never  mind,"  replied  Sam.  "  P'raps  you  may  ask  for  it, 
five  minits  artervards;  p'raps  I  may  say  I  von't  pay,  and  cut 
up  rough.  You  von't  think  o'  arrestin'  your  own  son  for  the 
money,  and  sendin'  him  off  to  the  Fleet,  will  you,  you 
unnat'ral  wagabone?" 

At  this  reply  of  Sam's,  the  father  and  son  exchanged  a 
complete  code  of  telegraphic  nods  and  gestures,  after  which, 
the  elder  Mr.  Weller  sat  himself  down  on  a  stone  step,  and 
laughed  till  he  was  purple. 

"  Wot  a  old  image  it  is ! "  exclaimed  Sam,  indignant  at  this 


244  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

loss  of  time.  "  What  are  you  a  settin'  down  there  for, 
con-wertin'  your  face  into  a  street-door  knocker,  wen  there's 
so  much  to  be  done.  Where's  the  money?" 

"In  the  boot,  Sammy,  in  the  boot,"  replied  Mr.  Weller, 
composing  his  features.  "  Hold  my  hat,  Sammy." 

Having  divested  himself  of  this  incumbrance,  Mr.  Weller  gave 
his  body  a  sudden  wrench  to  one  side,  and,  by  a  dexterous 
twist,  contrived  to  get  his  right  hand  into  a  most  capacious 
pocket,  from  whence,  after  a  great  deal  of  panting  and  exertion, 
he  extricated  a  pocket-book  of  the  large  octavo  size,  fastened 
by  a  huge  leathern  strap.  From  this  ledger  he  drew  forth  a 
couple  of  whip-lashes,  three  or  four  buckles,  a  little  sample- 
bag  of  corn,  and  finally  a  small  roll  of  very  dirty  bank-notes : 
from  which  he  selected  the  required  amount,  which  he  handed 
over  to  Sam. 

"And  now,  Sammy,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  when  the 
whip-lashes,  and  the  buckles,  and  the  samples,  had  been  all 
put  back,  and  the  book  once  more  deposited  at  the  bottom 
of  the  same  pocket,  "Now,  Sammy,  I  know  a  genTm'n  here, 
as'll  do  the  rest  o'  the  bisness  for  us,  in  no  time — a  limb 
o'  the  law,  Sammy,  as  has  got  brains  like  the  frogs,  dis- 
persed all  over  his  body,  and  reachin'  to  the  wery  tips  of 
his  fingers;  a  friend  of  the  Lord  Chancellorship's,  Sammy, 
who'd  only  have  to  tell  him  what  he  wanted,  and  he'd  lock 
you  up  for  life,  if  that  wos  all." 

"  I  say,"  said  Sam,  "  none  o1  that." 

"None  o'  wot?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"Wy,  none  o'  them  unconstitootional  ways  o'  doing  it," 
retorted  Sam.  "The  have-his-carcase,  next  to  the  perpetual 
motion,  is  vun  of  the  blessedest  things  as  wos  ever  made. 
I've  read  that  'ere  in  the  newspapers,  wery  of  en." 

«  Well,  wot's  that  got  to  do  vith  it?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller. 

"Just  this  here,"  said  Sam,  "that  I'll  patronise  the 
inwention,  and  go  in,  that  vay.  No  visperin's  to  the  Chan- 
cellorship, I  don't  like  the  notion.  It  mayn't  be  altogether 
safe,  vith  reference  to  gettin'  out  agin." 


AFFIDAVIT  OF  DEBT.  245 

Deferring  to  his  son's  feeling  upon  this  point,  Mr.  Weller 
at  once  sought  the  erudite  Solomon  Pell,  and  acquainted  him 
with  his  desire  to  issue  a  writ,  instantly,  for  the  sum  of 
twenty-five  pounds,  and  costs  of  process;  to  be  executed 
without  delay  upon  the  body  of  one  Samuel  Weller;  the 
charges  thereby  incurred,  to  be  paid  in  advance  to  Solomon 
Pell. 

The  attorney  was  in  high  glee,  for  the  embarrassed  coach- 
horser  was  ordered  to  be  discharged  forthwith.  He  highly 
approved  of  Sam's  attachment  to  his  master ;  declared  that  it 
strongly  reminded  him  of  his  own  feelings  of  devotion  to  his 
friend,  the  Chancellor;  and  at  once  led  the  elder  Mr.  Weller 
down  to  the  Temple,  to  swear  the  affidavit  of  debt,  which 
the  boy,  with  the  assistance  of  the  blue  bag,  had  drawn  up 
on  the  spot. 

Meanwhile,  Sam,  having  been  formally  introduced  to  the 
whitewashed  gentleman  and  his  friends,  as  the  offspring  of 
Mr.  Weller,  of  the  Belle  Savage,  was  treated  with  marked 
distinction,  and  invited  to  regale  himself  with  them  in  honour 
of  the  occasion;  an  invitation  which  he  was  by  no  means 
backward  in  accepting. 

The  mirth  of  gentlemen  of  this  class  is  of  a  grave  and  quiet 
character,  usually ;  but  the  present  instance  was  one  of  peculiar 
festivity,  and  they  relaxed  in  proportion.  After  some  rather 
tumultuous  toasting  of  the  Chief  Commissioner  and  Mr. 
Solomon  Pell,  who  had  that  day  displayed  such  transcendent 
abilities,  a  mottled-faced  gentleman  in  a  blue  shawl  proposed 
that  somebody  should  sing  a  song.  The  obvious  suggestion 
was,  that  the  mottled-faced  gentleman,  being  anxious  for  a 
song,  should  sing  it  himself;  but  this  the  mottled-faced 
gentleman  sturdily,  and  somewhat  offensively,  declined  to  do. 
Upon  which,  as  is  not  unusual  in  such  cases,  a  rather  angry 
colloquy  ensued. 

" Gentlemen,"  said  the  coach-horser,  "rather  than  disturb 
the  harmony  of  this  delightful  occasion,  perhaps  Mr.  Samuel 
Weller  will  oblige  the  company.1' 


246  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Raly,  gentlemen,'1  said  Sam,  "Fm  not  wery  much  in  the 
habit  o'  singin'  without  the  instrument;  but  anythin'  for  a 
quiet  life,  as  the  man  said  wen  he  took  the  sitivation  at  the 
lighthouse." 

With  this  prelude,  Mr.  Samuel  Weller  burst  at  once  into 
the  following  wild  and  beautiful  legend,  which,  under  the 
impression  that  it  is  not  generally  known,  we  take  the  liberty 
of  quoting.  We  would  beg  to  call  particular  attention  to  the 
monosyllable  at  the  end  of  the  second  and  fourth  lines,  which 
not  only  enables  the  singer  to  take  breath  at  those  points, 
but  greatly  assists  the  metre. 

ROMANCE. 

i. 

Bold  Turpin  vunce,  on  Hounslow  Heath, 
His  bold  mare  Bess  bestrode — er ; 
Ven  there  he  see'd  the  Bishop's  coach 
A-coming  along  the  road — er. 
So  he  gallops  close  to  the  'orse's  legs, 
And  he  claps  his  head  vithin ; 
And  the  Bishop  says,  "  Sure  as  eggs  is  eggs, 
This  here's  the  bold  Turpin  ! " 

OHOBUS. 

And  the  Bishop  says,  "  Sure  as  eggs  is  eggs, 
This  here's  the  bold  Turpin ! " 

n. 

Says  Turpin,  "  You  shall  eat  your  words, 
With  a  sarse  of  leaden  bul-let ; " 
So  he  puts  a  pistol  to  his  mouth, 
And  he  fires  it  down  his  gul-let. 
The  coachman  he  not  likin'  the  job, 
Set  off  at  a  full  gal-lop, 
But  Dick  put  a  couple  of  balls  in  his  nob, 
And  perwailed  on  him  to  stop. 

CHOBUS  (sarcastically). 
But  Dick  put  a  couple  of  balls  in  his  nob 
And  perwailed  on  him  to  stop. 

"I  maintain  that  that  'ere  song's  personal  to  the  cloth," 
said  the  mottled-faced  gentleman,  interrupting  it  at  this  point. 
"  I  demand  the  name  o'  that  coachman." 

"  Nobody  know'd,"  replied  Sam.  "  He  hadn't  got  his  card 
in  his  pocket." 


AN  INEXORABLE  CREDITOR.  247 

"  I  object  to  the  introduction  o'  politics,11  said  the  mottle- 
faeed  gentleman.  "I  submit  that,  in  the  present  company, 
that  'ere  song's  political ;  and,  wofs  much  the  same,  that  it 
ain't  true.  I  say  that  that  coachman  did  not  run  away ;  but 
that  he  died  game — game  as  pheasants;  and  I  won't  hear 
nothin1  said  to  the  contrairey.1" 

As  the  mottle-faced  gentleman  spoke  with  great  energy 
and  determination :  and  as  the  opinions  of  the  company  seemed 
divided  on  the  subject:  it  threatened  to  give  rise  to  fresh 
altercation,  when  Mr.  Weller  and  Mr.  Pell  most  opportunely 
arrived. 

"  All  right,  Sammy,11  said  Mr.  Weller. 

"The  officer  will  be  here  at  four  o'clock,11  said  Mr.  Pell. 
"  I  suppose  you  won't  run  away  meanwhile,  eh  ?  Ha !  ha ! " 

"P'raps  my  cruel  pa  'ull  relent  afore  then,11  replied  Sam, 
with  a  broad  grin. 

«  Not  I,"  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller. 

"Do,"  said  Sam. 

"  Not  on  no  account,11  replied  the  inexorable  creditor. 

'Til  give  bills  for  the  amount,  at  sixpence  a  month," 
said  Sam. 

"  I  won't  take  'era,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  very  good,  very  good,11  said  Mr.  Solomon 
Pell,  who  was  making  out  his  little  bill  of  costs ;  "  a  very 
amusing  incident  indeed !  Benjamin,  copy  that.11  And  Mr. 
Pell  smiled  again,  as  he  called  Mr.  Weller's  attention  to  the 
amount. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,11  said  the  professional  gentleman, 
taking  up  another  of  the  greasy  notes  as  Mr.  Weller  took  it 
from  the  pocket-book.  "Three  ten  and  one  ten  is  five. 
Much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Weller.  Your  son  is  a  most  deserving 
young  man,  very  much  so  indeed,  sir.  It's  a  very  pleasant  trait 
in  a  young  man's  character,  very  much  so,11  added  Mr.  Pell, 
smiling  smoothly  round,  as  he  buttoned  up  the  money. 

"  Wot  a  game  it  is ! "  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  with  a 
chuckle.  "  A  reg'lar  prodigy  son  ! " 


248  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Prodigal,  prodigal  son,  sir,11  suggested  Mr.  Pell,  mildly. 

"  Never  mind,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  dignity.  "  I 
know  wofs  o'clock,  sir.  Wen  I  don't,  I'll  ask  you,  sir.11 

By  the  time  the  officer  arrived,  Sam  had  made  himself  so 
extremely  popular,  that  the  congregated  gentlemen  determined 
to  see  him  to  prison  in  a  body.  So,  off  they  set ;  the  plaintiff 
and  defendant  walking  arm-in-arm ;  the  officer  in  front ;  and 
eight  stout  coachmen  bringing  up  the  rear.  At  Serjeant's 
Inn  Coffee-house  the  whole  party  halted  to  refresh,  and,  the 
legal  arrangements  being  completed,  the  procession  moved 
on  again. 

Some  little  commotion  was  occasioned  in  Fleet  Street,  by 
the  pleasantry  of  the  eight  gentlemen  in  the  flank,  who 
persevered  in  walking  four  abreast ;  it  was  also  found  necessary 
to  leave  the  mottle-faced  gentleman  behind,  to  fight  a  ticket- 
porter,  it  being  arranged  that  his  friends  should  call  for  him 
as  they  came  back.  Nothing  but  these  little  incidents 
occurred  on  the  way.  When  they  reached  the  gate  of  the 
Fleet,  the  cavalcade,  taking  the  time  from  the  plaintiff,  gave 
three  tremendous  cheers  for  the  defendant,  and,  after  having 
shaken  hands  all  round,  left  him. 

Sam,  having  been  formally  delivered  into  the  warden's 
custody,  to  the  intense  astonishment  of  Roker,  and  to  the 
evident  emotion  of  even  the  phlegmatic  Neddy,  passed  at 
once  into  the  prison,  walked  straight  to  his  master's  room, 
and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"Come  in,""  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Sam  appeared,  pulled  off  his  hat,  and  smiled. 

"  Ah,  Sam,  my  good  lad  ! 11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  evidently 
delighted  to  see  his  humble  friend  again ;  "  I  had  no  intention 
of  hurting  your  feelings  yesterday,  my  faithful  fellow,  by  what 
I  said.  Put  down  your  hat,  Sam,  and  let  me  explain  my 
meaning,  a  little  more  at  length.11 

"  Won't  presently  do,  sir  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

" Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "but  why  not  now?'1 

"I'd  rayther  not  now,  sir,11  rejoined  Sam. 


MR.   SAMUEL  WELLER  A  PRISONER.       249 

"  Why  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"""Cause — "  said  Sam,  hesitating. 

"  Because  of  what  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  alarmed  at  his 
follower's  manner.  "  Speak  out,  Sam."" 

"'Cause,"  rejoined  Sam;  "'cause  I've  got  a  little  bisness 
as  I  want  to  do." 

"What  business?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  surprised  at 
Sam's  confused  manner. 

"  Nothin'  partickler,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Oh,  if  it's  nothing  particular,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a 
smile,  "  you  can  speak  with  me  first." 

"I  think  I'd  better  see  arter  it  at  once,"  said  Sam,  still 
hesitating. 

Mr.  Pickwick  looked  amazed,  but  said  nothing. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Sam,  stopping  short. 

"Well !"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.     "Speak  out,  Sam." 

"Why,  the  fact  is,"  said  Sam,  with  a  desperate  effort, 
"  P'raps  Pd  better  see  arter  my  bed  afore  I  do  anythin'  else." 

"  Your  bed!""  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  in  astonishment. 

"Yes,  my  bed,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "I'm  a  pris'ner.  I  was 
arrested,  this  here  wery  arternoon,  for  debt." 

"  You  arrested  for  debt ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  sinking 
into  a  chair. 

"  Yes,  for  debt,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "  And  the  man  as  puts 
me  in,  'ull  never  let  me  out,  till  you  go  yourself." 

"  Bless  my  heart  and  soul ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Wot  I  say,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam.  "  If  it's  forty  year  to 
come,  I  shall  be  a  pris'ner,  and  I'm  very  glad  on  it,  and  if 
it  had  been  Newgate,  it  would  ha'  been  just  the  same.  Now 
the  murder's  out,  and,  damme,  there's  an  end  on  it ! " 

With  these  words,  which  he  repeated  with  great  emphasis 
and  violence,  Sam  Weller  dashed  his  hat  upon  the  ground, 
in  a  most  unusual  state  of  excitement ;  and  then,  folding  his 
arms,  looked  firmly  and  fixedly  in  his  master's  face. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

TREATS  OF  DIVERS  LITTLE  MATTERS  WHICH  OCCURRED  IN  THE 
FLEET,  AND  OF  MR.  WINKLE'S  MYSTERIOUS  BEHAVIOUR;  AND 
SHOWS  HOW  THE  POOR  CHANCERY  PRISONER  OBTAINED  HIS 
RELEASE  AT  LAST. 

MR.  PICKWICK  felt  a  great  deal  too  much  touched  by  the 
warmth  of  Sam's  attachment,  to  be  able  to  exhibit  any 
manifestation  of  anger  or  displeasure  at  the  precipitate  course 
he  had  adopted,  in  voluntarily  consigning  himself  to  a  debtors' 
prison,  for  an  indefinite  period.  The  only  point  on  which  he 
persevered  in  demanding  any  explanation,  was,  the  name  of 
Sam's  detaining  creditor ;  but  this  Mr.  Weller  as  perseveringly 
withheld. 

"  It  ain't  o'  no  use,  sir,"  said  Sam,  again  and  again.  "  He's 
a  ma-licious,  bad-disposed,  vorldly-minded,  spiteful,  windictive 
creetur,  with  a  hard  heart  as  there  ain't  no  soft'nin'.  As 
the  wirtuous  clergyman  remarked  of  the  old  gen'l'm'n  with 
the  dropsy,  ven  he  said,  that  upon  the  whole  he  thought  he'd 
rayther  leave  his  property  to  his  vife  than  build  a  chapel 
vith  it." 

"  But  consider,  Sam,"  Mr.  Pickwick  remonstrated.,  "  the  sum 
is  so  small  that  it  can  very  easily  be  paid;  and  having  made 
up  my  mind  that  you  shall  stop  with  me,  you  should  recollect 
how  much  more  useful  you  would  be,  if  you  could  go  outside 
the  walls." 


DONE  ON  PRINCIPLE.  251 

"Wery  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller 
gravely  ;  "  but  I'd  rayther  not." 

"Rather  not  do  what,  Sam  ?" 

"Wy,  Td  rayther  not  let  myself  down  to  ask  a  favour  o' 
this  here  unremorseful  enemy." 

"But  it  is  no  favour  asking  him  to  take  his  money,  Sam," 
reasoned  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam ;  "  but  it  'ud  be  a 
wery  great  favour  to  pay  it,  and  he  don't  deserve  none; 
that's  where  it  is,  sir." 

Here  Mr.  Pickwick,  rubbing  his  nose  with  an  air  of  some 
vexation,  Mr.  Weller  thought  it  prudent  to  change  the 
theme  of  the  discourse. 

"I  takes  my  determination  on  principle,  sir,"  remarked 
Sam,  "  and  you  takes  yours  on  the  same  ground ;  wich  puts 
me  in  mind  o'  the  man  as  killed  his-self  on  principle,  wich  o' 
course  you've  heerd  on,  sir."  Mr.  Weller  paused  when  he 
arrived  at  this  point,  and  cast  a  comical  look  at  his  master 
out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

"There  is  no  'of  course1  in  the  case,  Sam,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  gradually  breaking  into  a  smile,  in  spite  of  the 
uneasiness  which  Sam's  obstinacy  had  given  him.  "  The  fame 
of  the  gentleman  in  question,  never  reached  my  ears." 

"  No,  sir  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller.  "  You  astonish  me, 
sir;  he  wos  a  clerk  in  a  gov'ment  office,  sir." 

"  Was  he  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Yes,  he  wos,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller ;  "  and  a  wery 
pleasant  gen'l'm'n  too — one  o'  the  precise  and  tidy  sort,  as 
puts  their  feet  in  little  India-rubber  fire-buckets  wen  its  wet 
weather,  and  never  has  no  other  bosom  friends  but  hare-skins ; 
he  saved  up  his  money  on  principle,  wore  a  clean  shirt  ev'ry 
day  on  principle ;  never  spoke  to  none  of  his  relations  on 
principle,  'fear  they  shou'd  want  to  borrow  money  of  him ; 
and  wos  altogether,  in  fact,  an  uncommon  agreeable  character. 
He  had  his  hair  cut  on  principle  vunce  a  fortnight,  and 
contracted  for  his  clothes  on  the  economic  principle — three 


252  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

suits  a  year,  and  send  back  the  old  uns.  Being  a  wery  reg'lar 
genTm'n,  he  din'd  ev'ry  day  at  the  same  place,  where  it  wos 
one  and  nine  to  cut  off  the  joint,  and  a  wery  good  one  and 
nine's  worth  he  used  to  cut,  as  the  landlord  often  said,  with 
the  tears  a  tricklin'  down  his  face :  let  alone  the  way  he  used 
to  poke  the  fire  in  the  vinter  time,  which  wos  a  dead  loss  o 
four-pence  ha'penny  a  day:  to  say  nothin'  at  all  o'  the 
aggrawation  o'  seein'  him  do  it.  So  uncommon  grand  with 
it  too !  *  Post  arter  the  next  gen'lm'n',  he  sings  out  ev'ry 
day  ven  he  comes  in.  *  See  arter  the  Times,  Thomas ;  let  me 
look  at  the  Mornin'  Herald,  wen  it's  out  o'  hand ;  don't 
forget  to  bespeak  the  Chronicle;  and  just  bring  the  'Tizer, 
vill  you : '  and  then  he'd  set  vith  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  clock, 
and  rush  out,  just  a  quarter  of  a  minit  afore  the  time, 
to  waylay  the  boy  as  wos  a  comin'  in  with  the  evenin'  paper, 
wich  he'd  read  with  sich  intense  interest  and  persewerance  as 
worked  the  other  customers  up  to  the  wery  confines  o' 
desperation  and  insanity,  'specially  one  i-rascible  old  genTm'n 
as  the  vaiter  wos  always  obliged  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  on,  at 
sich  times,  fear  he  should  be  tempted  to  commit  some  rash 
act  with  the  carving  knife.  Veil,  sir,  here  he'd  stop,  occupyin' 
the  best  place  for  three  hours,  and  never  takin'  nothin'  arter 
his  dinner,  but  sleep,  and  then  he'd  go  away  to  a  coffee-house 
a  few  streets  off,  and  have  a  small  pot  o'  coffee  and  four 
crumpets,  arter  wich  he'd  walk  home  to  Kensington  and  go 
to  bed.  One  night  he  wos  took  very  ill ;  sends  for  a  doctor ; 
doctor  comes  in  a  green  fly,  with  a  kind  o'  Robinson  Crusoe 
set  o1  steps,  as  he  could  let  down  wen  he  got  out,  and  pull  up 
arter  him  wen  he  got  in,  to  perwent  the  necessity  o'  the 
coachman's  gettin'  down,  and  thereby  undeceivin'  the  public 
by  lettin'  'em  see  that  it  wos  only  a  livery  coat  as  he'd 
got  on,  and  not  the  trousers  to  match.  *  Wot's  the  matter  ? ' 
says  the  doctor.  *  Wery  ill,'  says  the  patient.  '  Wot  have 
you  been  a  eatin'  on?'  says  the  doctor.  *  Roast  weal,'  says 
the  patient.  'Wot's  the  last  thing  you  dewoured ? '  says 
the  doctor.  'Crumpets,'  says  the  patient.  'That's  it!' 


A  TRAGICAL  NARRATIVE.  253 

says  the  doctor.  '  Til  send  you  a  box  of  pills  directly,  and 
don't  you  never  take  no  more  of  'em,'  he  says.  'No  more 
o'  wot?'  says  the  patient — 'Pills?'  'No;  crumpets,'  says 
the  doctor.  *  Wy  ? '  says  the  patient,  starting  up  in  bed ; 
'  I've  eat  four  crumpets,  ev'ry  night  for  fifteen  year,  on 
principle.'  'Well,  then,  you'd  better  leave  'em  oft',  on 
principle,'  says  the  doctor.  'Crumpets  is  wholesome,  sir,' 
says  the  patient.  '  Crumpets  is  not  wholesome,  sir,'  says  the 
doctor,  wery  fierce.  'But  they're  so  cheap,'  says  the  patient, 
comin'  down  a  little, '  and  so  wery  fillin'  at  the  price.'  '  They'd 
be  dear  to  you,  at  any  price;  dear  if  you  wos  paid  to  eat 
'em,'  says  the  doctor.  Tour,  crumpets  a  night,'  he  says, 
'  vill  do  your  business  in  six  months ! '  The  patient  looks 
him  full  in  the  face,  and  turns  it  over  in  his  mind  for  a  long 
time,  and  at  last  he  says,  'Are  you  sure  o'  that  'ere,  sir?' 
Til  stake  my  professional  reputation  on  it,'  says  the  doctor. 
'  How  many  crumpets,  at  a  sittin',  do  you  think  'ud  kill  me 
off  at  once  ? '  says  the  patient.  '  I  don't  know,'  says  the  doctor. 
'Do  you  think  half  a  crown's  wurth  'ud  do  it?'  says  the 
patient.  '  I  think  it  might,'  says  the  doctor.  '  Three  shillins' 
wurth  'ud  be  sure  to  do  it,  I  s'pose?'  says  the  patient. 
'Certainly,'  says  the  doctor.  'Wery  good,'  says  the  patient; 
'good  night.'  Next  mornin'  he  gets  up,  has  a  fire  lit,  orders 
in  three  shillins'  wurth  o'  crumpets,  toasts  'em  all,  eats  'em  all, 
and  blows  his  brains  out." 

"What  did  he  do  that  for?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick 
abruptly;  for  he  was  considerably  startled  by  this  tragical 
termination  of  the  narrative. 

"Wot  did  he  do  it  for,  sir?"  reiterated  Sam.  "Wy  in 
support  of  his  great  principle  that  crumpets  wos  wholesome, 
and  to  show  that  he  wouldn't  be  put  out  of  his  way  for 
nobody ! " 

With  such  like  shiftings  and  changings  of  the  discourse,  did 
Mr.  Weller  meet  his  master's  questioning  on  the  night  of  his 
taking  up  his  residence  in  the  Fleet.  Finding  all  gentle 
remonstrance  useless,  Mr.  Pickwick  at  length  yielded  a 


254  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

reluctant  consent  to  his  taking  lodgings  by  the  week,  of  a 
bald-headed  cobbler,  who  rented  a  small  slip-room  in  one  of 
the  upper  galleries.  To  this  humble  apartment  Mr.  Weller 
moved  a  mattress  and  bedding,  which  he  hired  of  Mr.  Roker ; 
and,  by  the  time  he  lay  down  upon  it  at  night,  was  as  much 
at  home  as  if  he  had  been  bred  in  the  prison,  and  his  whole 
family  had  vegetated  therein  for  three  generations. 

"Do  you  always  smoke  arter  you  goes  to  bed,  old  cock?" 
inquired  Mr.  Weller  of  his  landlord,  when  they  had  both 
retired  for  the  night. 

"Yes,  I  does,  young  bantam,"  replied  the  cobbler. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  in-quire  wy  you  make  up  your  bed 
under  that  'ere  deal  table?"  said  Sam. 

"'Cause  I  was  always  used  to  a  four-poster  afore  I  came 
here,  and  I  find  the  legs  of  the  table  answer  just  as  well," 
replied  the  cobbler. 

"You're  a  character,  sir,"  said  Sam. 

"I  haven't  got  anything  of  the  kind  belonging  to  me," 
rejoined  the  cobbler,  shaking  his  head;  "and  if  you  want  to 
meet  with  a  good  one,  I'm  afraid  you'll  find  some  difficulty 
in  suiting  yourself  at  this  register  office." 

The  above  short  dialogue  took  place  as  Mr.  Weller  lay 
extended  on  his  mattress  at  one  end  of  the  room,  and  the 
cobbler  on  his,  at  the  other;  the  apartment  being  illumined 
by  the  light  of  a  rush  candle,  and  the  cobbler's  pipe,  which 
was  glowing  below  the  table,  like  a  red-hot  coal.  The 
conversation,  brief  as  it  was,  predisposed  Mr.  Weller  strongly 
in  his  landlord's  favour;  and  raising  himself  on  his  elbow  he 
took  a  more  lengthened  survey  of  his  appearance  than  he  had 
yet  had  either  time  or  inclination  to  make. 

He  was  a  sallow  man — all  cobblers  are;  and  had  a  strong 
bristly  beard — all  cobblers  have.  His  face  was  a  queer, 
good-tempered,  crooked-featured  piece  of  workmanship, 
ornamented  with  a  couple  of  eyes  that  must  have  worn  a 
very  joyous  expression  at  one  time,  for  they  sparkled  yet. 
The  man  was  sixty,  by  years,  and  Heaven  knows  how  old  by 


HOW  THE  COBBLER  WAS   RUINED.        255 

imprisonment,  so  that  his  having  any  look  approaching  to 
mirth  or  contentment,  was  singular  enough.  He  was  a  little 
man,  and,  being  half  doubled  up  as  he  lay  in  bed,  looked 
about  as  long  as  he  ought  to  have  been  without  his  legs. 
He  had  a  great  red  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  was  smoking,  and 
staring  at  the  rush-light,  in  a  state  of  enviable  placidity. 

"Have  you  been  here  long?"  inquired  Sam,  breaking  the 
silence  which  had  lasted  for  some  time. 

"  Twelve  year,"  replied  the  cobbler,  biting  the  end  of  his 
pipe  as  he  spoke. 

"  Contempt  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

The  cobbler  nodded. 

"  Well,  then,1'  said  Sam,  with  some  sternness,  "  wot  do  you 
persevere  in  bein'  obstinit  for,  vastin'  your  precious  life  away 
in  this  here  magnified  pound?  Wy  don't  you  give  in,  and 
tell  the  Chancellorship  that  you're  wery  sorry  for  makin'  his 
court  contemptible,  and  you  won't  do  so  no  more?" 

The  cobbler  put  his  pipe  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  while 
he  smiled,  and  then  brought  it  back  to  its  old  place  again ; 
but  said  nothing. 

"  Wy  don't  you  ?  "  said  Sam,  urging  his  question  strenuously. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  cobbler,  "  you  don't  quite  understand  these 
matters.  What  do  you  suppose  ruined  me,  now?" 

"  Wy,"  said  Sam,  trimming  the  rush-light,  "  I  s'pose  the 
beginnin'  wos,  that  you  got  into  debt,  eh?" 

"  Never  owed  a  farden,"  said  the  cobbler ;  "  try  again." 

"Well,  perhaps,"  said  Sam,  "you  bought  houses,  with  is 
delicate  English  for  goin'  mad :  or  took  to  buildin',  wich  is 
a  medical  term  for  bein'  incurable." 

The  cobbler  shook  his  head  and  said,  "Try  again." 

"You  didn't  go  to  law,  I  hope?"  said  Sam,  suspiciously. 

"Never  in  my  life,"  replied  the  cobbler.  "The  fact  is,  I 
was  ruined  by  having  money  left  me." 

"Come,  come,"  said  Sam,  "that  von't  do.  I  wish  some 
rich  enemy  'ud  try  to  vork  my  destruction  in  that  'ere  vay. 
I'd  let  him." 


256  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  you  don't  believe  it,"  said  the  cobbler, 
quietly  smoking  his  pipe.  "I  wouldn't  if  I  was  you;  but 
it's  true  for  all  that." 

"  How  wos  it  ? "  inquired  Sam,  half  induced  to  believe  the 
fact  already,  by  the  look  the  cobbler  gave  him. 

"Just  this,"  replied  the  cobbler;  "an  old  gentleman  that 
I  worked  for,  down  in  the  country,  and  a  humble  relation 
of  whose  I  married — she's  dead,  God  bless  her,  and  thank 
Him  for  it ! — was  seized  with  a  fit  and  went  off."11 

"  Where  ?  "  inquired  Sam,  who  was  growing  sleepy  after  the 
numerous  events  of  the  day. 

"How  should  I  know  where  he  went?"  said  the  cobbler, 
speaking  through  his  nose  in  an  intense  enjoyment  of  his  pipe. 
«He  went  off  dead." 

"  Oh,  that  indeed,"  said  Sam.     «  Well  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  the  cobbler,  "he  left  five  thousand  pound 
behind  him." 

"  And  wery  gen-teel  in  him  so  to  do,"  said  Sam. 

"One  of  which,"  continued  the  cobbler,  "he  left  to  me, 
'cause  I'd  married  his  relation,  you  see." 

"  Wery  good,"  murmured  Sam. 

"  And  being  surrounded  by  a  great  number  of  nieces  and 
nevys,  as  was  always  a  quarrelling  and  fighting  among  them- 
selves for  the  property,  he  makes  me  his  executor,  and  leaves 
the  rest  to  me :  in  trust,  to  divide  it  among  'em  as  the  will 
prowided." 

"  Wot  do  you  mean  by  leavin1  it  on  trust  ? "  inquired  Sam, 
waking  up  a  little.  "  If  it  ain't  ready  money,  where's  the  use 
on  it?" 

"  It's  a  law  term,  that's  all,"  said  the  cobbler. 

"  I  don't  think  that,"  said  Sam,  shaking  his  head.  "  There's 
wery  little  trust  at  that  shop.  Hows'ever,  go  on." 

"  Well,"  said  the  cobbler :  "  when  I  was  going  to  take  out 
a  probate  of  the  will,  the  nieces  and  nevys,  who  was  desperately 
disappointed  at  not  getting  all  the  money,  enters  a  caveat 
against  it." 


THE   COBBLER'S  STORY.  257 

"What's  that?'1  inquired  Sam. 

"A  legal  instrument,  which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  it's  no 
go,"  replied  the  cobbler. 

"I  see,"  said  Sam,  "a  sort  of  brother-in-law  o'  the  have- 
his-carcase.  Well." 

"  But,"  continued  the  cobbler,  "  finding  that  they  couldn't 
agree  among  themselves,  and  consequently  couldn't  get  up  a 
case  against  the  will,  they  withdrew  the  caveat,  and  I  paid  all 
the  legacies.  I'd  hardly  done  it,  when  one  nevy  brings  an 
action  to  set  the  will  aside.  The  case  comes  on,  some  months 
afterwards,  afore  a  deaf  old  gentleman,  in  a  back  room  some- 
where down  by  Paul's  Churchyard;  and  arter  four  counsels 
had  taken  a  day  a-piece  to  bother  him  regularly,  he  takes  a 
week  or  two  to  consider,  and  read  the  evidence  in  six  vollums, 
and  then  gives  his  judgment  that  how  the  testator  was  not 
quite  right  in  his  head,  and  I  must  pay  all  the  money  back 
again,  and  all  the  costs.  I  appealed;  the  case  come  on 
before  three  or  four  very  sleepy  gentlemen,  who  had  heard  it 
all  before  in  the  other  court,  where  they're  lawyers  without 
work;  the  only  difference  being,  that,  there,  they're  called 
doctors,  and  in  the  other  place  delegates,  if  you  understand 
that;  and  they  very  dutifully  confirmed  the  decision  of  the 
old  gentleman  below.  After  that,  we  went  into  Chancery, 
where  we  are  still,  and  where  I  shall  always  be.  My  lawyers 
have  had  all  my  thousand  pound  long  ago ;  and  what  between 
the  estate,  as  they  call  it,  and  the  costs,  I'm  here  for  ten 
thousand,  and  shall  stop  here,  till  I  die,  mending  shoes. 
Some  gentlemen  have  talked  of  bringing  it  afore  parliament, 
and  I  dare  say  would  have  done  it,  only  they  hadn't  time  to 
come  to  me,  and  I  hadn't  power  to  go  to  them,  and  they  got 
tired  of  my  long  letters,  and  dropped  the  business.  And 
this  is  God's  truth,  without  one  word  of  suppression  or 
exaggeration,  as  fifty  people,  both  in  this  place  and  out  of  it, 
very  well  know." 

The  cobbler  paused  to  ascertain  what  effect  his  story  had 
produced  on  Sam;  but  finding  that  he  had  dropped  asleep, 


258  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  sighed,  put  it  down,  drew 
the  bedclothes  over  his  head,  and  went  to  sleep  too. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  sitting  at  breakfast,  alone,  next  morning 
(Sam  being  busily  engaged  in  the  cobbler's  room,  polishing 
his  master's  shoes  and  brushing  the  black  gaiters)  when  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door,  which,  before  Mr.  Pickwick  could 
cry  "  Come  in  ! "  was  followed  by  the  appearance  of  a  head  of 
hair  and  a  cotton-velvet  cap,  both  of  which  articles  of  dress 
he  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising  as  the  personal  property  of 
Mr.  Smangle. 

"How  are  you?"  said  that  worthy,  accompanying  the 
inquiry  with  a  score  or  two  of  nods ;  "  I  say — do  you  expect 
anybody  this  morning?  Three  men — devilish  gentlemanly 
fellows — have  been  asking  after  you  down  stairs,  and  knocking 
at  every  door  on  the  Hall  flight;  for  which  they've  been 
most  infernally  blown  up  by  the  collegians  that  had  the 
trouble  of  opening  'em." 

"  Dear  me !  How  very  foolish  of  them,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
rising.  "  Yes ;  I  have  no  doubt  they  are  some  friends  whom 
I  rather  expected  to  see,  yesterday." 

"  Friends  of  yours ! "  exclaimed  Smangle,  seizing  Mr.  Pick- 
wick by  the  hand.  "  Say  no  more.  Curse  me,  they're  friends 
of  mine  from  this  minute,  and  friends  of  Mivins's  too.  In- 
fernal pleasant,  gentlemanly,  dog,  Mivins's,  isn't  he?"  said 
Smangle,  with  great  feeling. 

"I  know  so  little  of  the  gentleman,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
hesitating,  "that  I " 

"I  know  you  do,"  interposed  Smangle,  clasping  Mr.  Pick- 
wick by  the  shoulder.  "  You  shall  know  him  better.  You'll 
be  delighted  with  him.  That  man,  sir,"  said  Smangle,  with 
a  solemn  countenance,  "has  comic  powers  that  would  do 
honour  to  Drury  Lane  Theatre." 

"Has  he  indeed?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Ah,  by  Jove  he  has!"  replied  Smangle.  "Hear  him 
come  the  four  cats  in  the  wheelbarrow — four  distinct  cats, 
sir,  I  pledge  you  my  honour.  Now  you  know  that's  infernal 


A  LITTLE  FAILING.  259 

clever!  Damme,  you  can't  help  liking  a  man,  when  you 
see  these  traits  about  him.  He's  only  one  fault — that  little 
failing  I  mentioned  to  you,  you  know." 

As  Mr.  Smangle  shook  his  head  in  a  confidential  and 
sympathising  manner  at  this  juncture,  Mr.  Pickwick  felt 
that  he  was  expected  to  say  something,  so  he  said  "  Ah ! " 
and  looked  restlessly  at  the  door. 

"  Ah ! "  echoed  Mr.  Smangle,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh. 
"  He's  delightful  company,  that  man  is,  sir.  I  don't  know 
better  company  anywhere;  but  he  has  that  one  drawback. 
If  the  ghost  of  his  grandfather,  sir,  was  to  rise  before  him 
this  minute,  he'd  ask  him  for  the  loan  of  his  acceptance  on 
an  eighteenpenny  stamp." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Yes,"  added  Mr.  Smangle ;  "  and  if  he'd  the  power  of 
raising  him  again,  he  would,  in  two  months  and  three  days 
from  this  time,  to  renew  the  bill ! " 

"Those  are  very  remarkable  traits,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick; 
"but  I'm  afraid  that  while  we  are  talking  here,  my  friends 
may  be  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity  at  not  finding  me." 

"I'll  show  'em  the  way,"  said  Smangle,  making  for  the 
door.  "  Good  day.  I  won't  disturb  you  while  they're  here, 
you  know.  By-the-bye " 

As  Smangle  pronounced  the  last  three  words,  he  stopped 
suddenly,  re-closed  the  door  which  he  had  opened,  and, 
walking  softly  back  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  stepped  close  up  to 
him  on  tip-toe,  and  said  in  a  very  soft  whisper: 

"  You  couldn't  make  it  convenient  to  lend  me  half-a-crown 
till  the  latter  end  of  next  week,  could  you  ? " 

Mr.  Pickwick  could  scarcely  forbear  smiling,  but  managing 
to  preserve  his  gravity,  he  drew  forth  the  coin,  and  placed  it 
in  Mr.  Smangle's  palm;  upon  which,  that  gentleman,  with 
many  nods  and  winks,  implying  profound  mystery,  dis- 
appeared in  quest  of  the  three  strangers,  with  whom  he 
presently  returned ;  and  having  coughed  thrice,  and  nodded 
as  manv  times,  as  an  assurance  to  Mr.  Pickwick  that  he. 


260  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

would  not  forget  to  pay,  he  shook  hands  all  round,  in  an 
engaging  manner,  and  at  length  took  himself  off. 

"  My  dear  friends,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  shaking  hands  alter- 
nately with  Mr.  Tupman,  Mr.  Winkle,  and  Mr.  Snodgrass, 
who  were  the  three  visitors  in  question,  "  I  am  delighted  to 
see  you." 

The  triumvirate  were  much  affected.  Mr.  Tupman  shook 
his  head  deploringly ;  Mr.  Snodgrass  drew  forth  his  handker- 
chief, with  undisguised  emotion ;  and  Mr.  Winkle  retired  to 
the  window,  and  snifred  aloud. 

"Mornin',  genTm'n,"  said  Sam,  entering  at  the  moment 
with  the  shoes  and  gaiters.  "Avay  vith  melincholly,  as  the 
little  boy  said  ven  his  school-missis  died.  Velcome  to  the 
College,  genTm'n." 

"This  foolish  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  tapping  Sam  on 
the  head  as  he  knelt  down  to  button  up  his  master's  gaiters : 
"This  foolish  fellow  has  got  himself  arrested,  in  order  to 
be  near  me." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  three  friends. 

"Yes,  genTm'n,"  said  Sam,  "I'm  a — stand  steady,  sir,  if 
you  please — Fm  a  prisoner,  genTm'n.  Con-fined,  as  the  lady 
said." 

"  A  prisoner ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Winkle,  with  unaccountable 
vehemence. 

"Hallo,  sir!"  responded  Sam,  looking  up.  "Wot's  the 
matter,  sir?" 

"I  had  hoped,  Sam,  that nothing,  nothing,"  said  Mr. 

Winkle,  precipitately. 

There  was  something  so  very  abrupt  and  unsettled  in 
Mr.  Winkle's  manner,  that  Mr.  Pickwick  involuntarily  looked 
at  his  two  friends,  for  an  explanation. 

"We  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Tupman,  answering  this  mute 
appeal  aloud.  "He  has  been  much  excited  for  two  days 
past,  and  his  whole  demeanour  very  unlike  what  it  usually  is. 
We  feared  there  must  be  something  the  matter,  but  he 
resolutely  denies  it." 


MR.   WINKLE  DISAPPOINTED.  261 

"No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  colouring  beneath  Mr.  Pick- 
wick's gaze ;  "  there  is  really  nothing.  I  assure  you  there  is 
nothing,  my  dear  sir.  It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  leave 
town,  for  a  short  time,  on  private  business,  and  I  had  hoped 
to  have  prevailed  upon  you  to  allow  Sam  to  accompany  me." 

Mr.  Pickwick  looked  more  astonished  than  before. 

"I  think,"  faltered  Mr.  Winkle,  "that  Sam  would  have 
had  no  objection  to  do  so ;  but,  of  course,  his  being  a  prisoner 
here,  renders  it  impossible.  So  I  must  go  alone."" 

As  Mr.  Winkle  said  these  words,  Mr.  Pickwick  felt,  with 
some  astonishment,  that  Sam's  fingers  were  trembling  at  the 
gaiters,  as  if  he  were  rather  surprised  or  startled.  Sam  looked 
up  at  Mr.  Winkle,  too,  when  he  had  finished  speaking;  and 
though  the  glance  they  exchanged  was  instantaneous,  they 
seemed  to  understand  each  other. 

"Do  you  know  anything  of  this,  Sam?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
sharply. 

"  No,  I  don't,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  beginning  to  button 
with  extraordinary  assiduity. 

"  Are  you  sure,  Sam  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Wy,  sir,"  responded  Mr.  Weller ;  "  I'm  sure  so  far,  that 
Pve  never  heerd  anythin'  on  the  subject  afore  this  moment. 
If  I  makes  any  guess  about  it,"  added  Sam,  looking  at  Mr. 
Winkle,  "  I  haven't  got  any  right  to  say  what  it  is,  'fear  it 
should  be  a  wrong  \m." 

"I  have  no  right  to  make  any  further  inquiry  into  the 
private  affairs  of  a  friend,  however  intimate  a  friend,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick,  after  a  short  silence ;  "  at  present  let  me  merely 
say,  that  I  do  not  understand  this  at  all.  There.  We  have 
had  quite  enough  of  the  subject." 

Thus  expressing  himself,  Mr.  Pickwick  led  the  conversation 
to  different  topics,  and  Mr.  Winkle  gradually  appeared  more 
at  ease,  though  still  very  far  from  being  completely  so.  They 
had  all  so  much  to  converse  about,  that  the  morning  very 
quickly  passed  away ;  and  when,  at  three  o'clock,  Mr.  Weller 
produced  upon  the  little  dining  table,  a  roast  leg  of  mutton 


£62  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

and  an  enormous  meat  pie,  with  sundry  dishes  of  vegetables, 
and  pots  of  porter,  which  stood  upon  the  chairs  or  the  sofa- 
bedstead,  or  where  they  could,  everybody  felt  disposed  to  do 
justice  to  the  meal,  notwithstanding  that  the  meat  had  been 
purchased,  and  dressed,  and  the  pie  made,  and  baked,  at  the 
prison  cookery  hard  by. 

To  these,  succeeded  a  bottle  or  two  of  very  good  wine, 
for  which  a  messenger  was  dispatched  by  Mr.  Pickwick  to  the 
Horn  Coffeehouse,  in  Doctors1  Commons.  The  bottle  or  two, 
indeed,  might  be  more  properly  described  as  a  bottle  or  six, 
for  by  the  time  it  was  drunk,  and  tea  over,  the  bell  began  to 
ring  for  strangers  to  withdraw. 

But,  if  Mr.  Winkle's  behaviour  had  been  unaccountable  in 
the  morning,  it  became  perfectly  unearthly  and  solemn  when, 
under  the  influence  of  his  feelings,  and  his  share  of  the 
bottle  or  six,  he  prepared  to  take  leave  of  his  friend.  He 
lingered  behind,  until  Mr.  Tupman  and  Mr.  Snodgrass  had 
disappeared,  and  then  fervently  clenched  Mr.  Pickwick's  hand, 
with  an  expression  of  face  in  which  deep  and  mighty  resolve 
was  fearfully  blended  with  the  very  concentrated  essence  of 
gloom. 

"Good  night,  my  dear  sir!"  said  Mr.  Winkle  between  his 
set  teeth. 

"JJless  you,  my  dear  fellow!"  replied  the  warm-hearted 
Mr.  Pickwick,  as  he  returned  the  pressure  of  his  young  friend's 
hand. 

"  Now  then ! "  cried  Mr.  Tupman  from  the  gallery. 

"  Yes,  yes,  directly,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle.     "  Good  night ! ". 

"  Good  night,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

There  was  another  good  night,  and  another,  and  half-a- 
dozen  more  after  that,  and  still  Mr.  Winkle  had  fast  hold 
of  his  friend's  hand,  and  was  looking  into  his  face  with  the 
same  strange  expression. 

"  /*  anything  the  matter  ?  "  said  Mr.  Pickwick  at  last,  when 
his  arm  was  quite  sore  with  shaking. 
"T  "  Nothing,"  said  Mr.  Winkle. 


A  PROLONGED  "GOOD  NIGHT."  263 

"  Well  then,  good  night,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  attempting 
to  disengage  his  hand. 

"  My  friend,  my  benefactor,  my  honoured  companion," 
murmured  Mr.  Winkle,  catching  at  his  wrist.  "  Do  not  judge 
me  harshly ;  do  not,  when  you  hear  that,  driven  to  extremity 
by  hopeless  obstacles,  I " 

"  Now  then,"  said  Mr.  Tupman,  re-appearing  at  the  door. 
"Are  you  coming,  or  are  we  to  be  locked  in?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am  ready,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  And  with  a 
violent  effort  he  tore  himself  away. 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  was  gazing  down  the  passage  after  them 
in  silent  astonishment,  Sam  Weller  appeared  at  the  stair-head, 
and  whispered  for  one  moment  in  Mr.  Winkle's  ear. 

"  Oh  certainly,  depend  upon  me,"  said  that  gentleman  aloud. 

"Thankee,  sir.     You  won't  forget,  sir?"  said  Sam. 

«  Of  course  not,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle. 

"Wish  you  luck,  sir,"  said  Sam,  touching  his  hat.  "I 
should  very  much  liked  to  ha1  joined  you,  sir ;  but  the  gov'ner 
o1  course  is  pairamount." 

"It  is  very  much  to  your  credit  that  you  remain  here," 
said  Mr.  Winkle.  With  these  words  they  disappeared  down 
the  stairs. 

"Very  extraordinary,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  going  back  into 
his  room,  and  seating  himself  at  the  table  in  a  musing  attitude. 
"  What  can  that  young  man  be  going  to  do  ? " 

He  had  sat  ruminating  about  the  matter  for  some  time, 
when  the  voice  of  Roker,  the  turnkey,  demanded  whether  he 
might  come  in. 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  I've  brought  you  a  softer  pillow,  sir,"  said  Roker,  "  instead 
of  the  temporary  one  you  had  last  night." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Will  you  take  a  glass 
of  wine  ?  " 

"You're  wery  good,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Roker,  accepting  the 
proffered  glass.  "  Yours,  sir." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 


264  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Pm  sorry  to  say  that  your  landlord's  wery  bad  to-night, 
sir,"  said  Roker,  setting  down  the  glass,  and  inspecting  the 
lining  of  his  hat  preparatory  to  putting  it  on  again. 

"  What !    The  Chancery  prisoner ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  He  won't  be  a  Chancery  prisoner  wery  long,  sir,"  replied 
Roker,  turning  his  hat  round,  so  as  to  get  the  maker's  name 
right  side  upwards,  as  he  looked  into  it. 

"You  make  my  blood  run  cold,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"He's  been  consumptive  for  a  long  time  past,"  said  Mr. 
Roker,  "and  he's  taken  wery  bad  in  the  breath  to-night. 
The  doctor  said,  six  months  ago,  that  nothing  but  change  of 
air  could  save  him." 

"  Great  Heaven ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  has  this  man 
been  slowly  murdered  by  the  law  for  six  months  ? " 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied  Roker,  weighing  the 
hat  by  the  brims  in  both  hands.  "I  suppose  he'd  have  been 
took  the  same,  wherever  he  was.  He  went  into  the  infirmary, 
this  morning;  the  doctor  says  his  strength  is  to  be  kept  up 
as  much  as  possible;  and  the  warden's  sent  him  wine  and 
broth  and  that,  from  his  own  house.  It's  not  the  warden's 
fault,  you  know,  sir." 

"  Of  course  not,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick  hastily. 

"  Pm  afraid,  however,"  said  Roker,  shaking  his  head,  "  that 
it's  all  up  with  him.  I  offered  Neddy  two  six  penn'orths  to 
one  upon  it  just  now,  but  he  wouldn't  take  it,  and  quite 
right.  Thankee,  sir.  Good  night,  sir." 

"  Stay,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  earnestly.  "  Where  is  this 
infirmary?" 

"Just  over  where  you  slept,  sir,"  replied  Roker.  "I'll 
show  you,  if  you  like  to  come."  Mr.  Pickwick  snatched  up 
his  hat  without  speaking,  and  followed  at  once. 

The  turnkey  led  the  way  in  silence ;  and  gently  raising  the 
latch  of  the  room-door,  motioned  Mr.  Pickwick  to  enter.  It 
was  a  large,  bare,  desolate  room,  with  a  number  of  stump  bed- 
steads made  of  iron  :  on  one  of  which  lay  stretched,  the  shadow 


MR.  PICKWICK  VISITS  THE  INFIRMARY.     265 

of  a  man :  wan,  pale,  and  ghastly.  His  breathing  was  hard 
and  thick,  and  he  moaned  painfully  as  it  came  and  went.  At 
the  bedside,  sat  a  short  old  man  in  a  cobbler's  apron,  who,  by 
the  aid  of  a  pair  of  horn  spectacles,  was  reading  from  the 
Bible  aloud.  It  was  the  fortunate  legatee. 

The  sick  man  laid  his  hand  upon  his  attendant's  arm, 
and  motioned  him  to  stop.  He  closed  the  book,  and  laid 
it  on  the  bed. 

"Open  the  window,"  said  the  sick  man. 

He  did  so.  The  noise  of  carriages  and  carts,  the  rattle  of 
wheels,  the  cries  of  men  and  boys,  all  the  busy  sounds  of  a 
mighty  multitude  instinct  with  life  and  occupation,  blended 
into  one  deep  murmur,  floated  into  the  room.  Above  the 
hoarse  loud  hum,  arose,  from  time  to  time,  a  boisterous 
laugh;  or  a  scrap  of  some  jingling  song,  shouted  forth,  by 
one  of  the  giddy  crowd,  would  strike  upon  the  ear,  for  an 
instant,  and  then  be  lost  amidst  the  roar  of  voices  and  the 
tramp  of  footsteps ;  the  breaking  of  the  billows  of  the  restless 
sea  of  life,  that  rolled  heavily  on,  without.  Melancholy 
sounds  to  a  quiet  listener  at  any  time ;  how  melancholy  to 
the  watcher  by  the  bed  of  death ! 

"There  is  no  air  here,"  said  the  sick  man  faintly.  "The 
place  pollutes  it.  It  was  fresh  round  about,  when  I  walked 
there,  years  ago ;  but  it  grows  hot  and  heavy  in  passing  these 
walls.  I  cannot  breathe  it." 

"We  have  breathed  it  together,  for  a  long  time,"  said 
the  old  man.  "Come,  come." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  during  which  the  two  spectators 
approached  the  bed.  The  sick  man  drew  a  hand  of  his  old 
fellow  prisoner  towards  him,  and  pressing  it  affectionately 
between  both  his  own,  retained  it  in  his  grasp. 

"  I  hope,"  he  gasped  after  a  while :  so  faintly  that  they 
bent  their  ears  close  over  the  bed  to  catch  the  half-formed 
sounds  his  pale  lips  gave  vent  to :  "I  hope  my  merciful  Judge 
will  bear  in  mind  my  heavy  punishment  on  earth.  Twenty 
years,  my  friend,  twenty  years  in  this  hideous  grave!  My 


266  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

heart  broke  when  my  child  died,  and  I  could  not  even  kiss 
him  in  his  little  coffin.  My  loneliness  since  then,  in  all  this 
noise  and  riot,  has  been  very  dreadful.  May  God  forgive 
me  !  He  has  seen  my  solitary,  lingering  death." 

He  folded  his  hands,  and  murmuring  something  more  they 
could  not  hear,  fell  into  a  sleep—  only  a  sleep  at  first,  for 
they  saw  him  smile. 

They  whispered  together  for  a  little  time,  and  the  turnkey, 
stooping  over  the  pillow,  drew  hastily  back.  "He  has  got 
his  discharge,  by  G  —  !"  said  the  man. 

He  had.  But  he  had  grown  so  like  death  in  life,  that  they 
knew  not  when  he  died. 

•  -I-   •>.  '(;;!'.     .tuotn   lMt  oirt  i  .  jjaotl  ,iminLfur  <p4>b  ono  oini 

buol   twn«t»ii 
«  10   ; 
't 

fed-ad  &sdi  hi< 
ilt  'io  drft    «e*Ri--' 


!  iiiii'ib  'to  {r.K?  o/fi    ;«< 

'.['•*     .vi'ru ,.;  nj'.«Tt  ji'jis  aifi  bins  ^wxl  iw  o*t  «i 
.li»v»f  i-iwi'1-^  ,J!H»on  f)iuurt.  ffenk  «aw  41  '••  Ji  J! 

- 
.  -;  ,MH«,,,; 


-Jj-Kj'  ov/j  ''•«>  i-foiil'-'f  '• 

trf  Ifu  biiarf  JB  >n«Jb  «fi«j  ^oht  uriT 


I- 

.tpbn&fri 
Jt  vlinhit  oa  : 
tarf  «|J  if 


' 

CHAPTER    XLV. 

DESCRIPTIVE  OF  AN*  AFFECTING  INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  MR.  SAMUEL 
WELLER  AND  A  FAMILY  PARTY.  MR.  PICKWICK  MAKES  A 
TOUR  OF  THE  DIMINUTIVE  WORLD  HE  INHABITS,  AND  RESOLVES 
TO  MIX  WITH  IT,  IN  FUTURE,  AS  LITTLE  AS  POSSIBLE. 

A  FEW  mornings  after  his  incarceration,  Mr.  Samuel  Weller, 
having  arranged  his  masters  room  with  all  possible  care,  and 
seen  him  comfortably  seated  over  his  books  and  papers,  with- 
drew to  employ  himself  for  an  hour  or  two  to  come,  as  he 
best  could.  It  was  a  fine  morning,  and  it  occurred  to  Sam 
that  a  pint  of  porter  in  the  open  air  would  lighten  his  next 
quarter  of  an  hour  or  so,  as  well  as  any  little  amusement  in 
which  he  could  indulge. 

Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  he  betook  himself  to 
the  tap.  Having  purchased  the  beer,  and  obtained,  moreover, 
the  day-but-one-before-yesterday's  paper,  he  repaired  to  the 
skittle-ground,  and  seating  himself  on  a  bench,  proceeded  to 
enjoy  himself  in  a  very  sedate  and  methodical  manner. 

First  of  all,  he  took  a  refreshing  draught  of  the  beer,  and 
then  he  looked  up  at  a  window,  and  bestowed  a  Platonic 
wink  on  a  young  lady  who  was  peeling  potatoes  thereat. 
Then  he  opened  the  paper,  and  folded  it  so  as  to  get  the 
police  reports  outwards;  and  this  being  a  vexatious  and 
difficult  thing  to  do,  when  there  is  any  wind  stirring,  he  took 
another  draught  of  the  beer  when  he  had  accomplished  it. 
Then,  he  read  two  lines  of  the  paper,  and  stopped  short,  to 


268  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

look  at  a  couple  of  men  who  were  finishing  a  game  at  rackets, 
which  being  concluded,  he  cried  out  "wery  good"  in  an 
approving  manner,  and  looked  round  upon  the  spectators,  to 
ascertain  whether  their  sentiments  coincided  with  his  own. 
This  involved  the  necessity  of  looking  up  at  the  windows 
also;  and  as  the  young  lady  was  still  there,  it  was  an  act 
of  common  politeness  to  wink  again,  and  to  drink  to  her 
good  health  in  dumb  show,  in  another  draught  of  the  beer, 
which  Sam  did ;  and  having  frowned  hideously  upon  a  small 
boy  who  had  noted  this  latter  proceeding  with  open  eyes,  he 
threw  one  leg  over  the  other,  and,  holding  the  newspaper  in 
both  hands,  began  to  read  in  real  earnest. 

He  had  hardly  composed  himself  into  the  needful  state  of 
abstraction,  when  he  thought  he  heard  his  own  name  pro- 
claimed in  some  distant  passage.  Nor  was  he  mistaken,  for 
it  quickly  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
the  air  teemed  with  shouts  of  "  Weller ! " 

"Here!""  roared  Sam,  in  a  stentorian  voice*  "Wots  the 
matter?  Who  wants  him?  Has  an  express  come  to  say 
that  his  country-house  is  a-fire  ?  " 

"Somebody  wants  you  in  the  hall,11  said  a  man  who  was 
standing  by. 

"Just  mind  that  ^re  paper  and  the  pot,  old  feller,  will 
you?11  said  Sam.  "I'm  a  comin1.  Blessed,  if  they  was  a 
callin1  me  to  the  bar,  they  couldn^  make  more  noise  about 
it!11 

Accompanying  these  words  with  a  gentle  rap  on  the  head 
of  the  young  gentleman  before  noticed,  who,  unconscious  of 
his  close  vicinity  to  the  person  in  request,  was  screaming 
"  Weller ! "  with  all  his  might,  Sam  hastened  across  the  ground, 
and  ran  up  the  steps  into  the  hall.  Here,  the  first  object 
that  met  his  eyes  was  his  beloved  father  sitting  on  a  bottom 
stair,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  shouting  out  "Weller!11  in 
his  very  loudest  tone,  at  half-minute  intervals. 

"Wot  are  you  a  roarin1  at?11  said  Sam  impetuously,  when 
the  old  gentleman  had  discharged  himself  of  another  shout ; 


SUPPRESSED  LAUGHTER  269 

"  makin'  yourself  so  precious  hot  that  you  looks  like  a  aggra- 
wated  glass-blower.  Wot's  the  matter?" 

"  Aha ! "  replied  the  old  gentleman,  "  I  began  to  be  afeerd 
that  you'd  gone  for  a  walk  round  the  Regency  Park,  Sammy."" 

"  Come,1'  said  Sam,  "  none  o1  them  taunts  agin  the  wictim 
o'  avarice,  and  come  off  that  'ere  step.  Wot  are  you  a  settin' 
down  there  for?  I  don't  live  there."1 

"I've  got  such  a  game  for  you,  Sammy,"  said  the  elder 
Mr.  Weller,  rising. 

"Stop  a  minit,"  said  Sam,  "you're  all  vite  behind." 

"That's  right,  Sammy,  rub  it  off,"1  said  Mr.  Weller,  as  his 
son  dusted  him.  "  It  might  look  personal  here,  if  a  man 
walked  about  with  whitevash  on  his  clothes,  eh,  Sammy?" 

As  Mr.  Weller  exhibited  in  this  place  unequivocal  symp- 
toms of  an  approaching  fit  of  chuckling,  Sam  interposed  to 
stop  it. 

"  Keep  quiet,  do,"  said  Sam,  "  there  never  vos  such  a  old 
picter-card  born.  Wot  are  you  bustin1  vith,  now?" 

"Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  wiping  his  forehead,  "I'm 
afeerd  that  vun  o'  these  days  I  shall  laugh  myself  into  a 
appleplexy,  my  boy." 

"Veil,  then,  wot  do  you  do  it  for?"  said  Sam.  "Now; 
wot  have  you  got  to  say?" 

"  Who  do  you  think's  come  here  with  me,  Samivel  ? "  said 
Mr.  Weller,  drawing  back  a  pace  or  two,  pursing  up  his 
mouth,  and  extending  his  eyebrows. 

"Pell?"  said  Sam. 

Mr.  Weller  shook  his  head,  and  his  red  cheek  expanded 
with  the  laughter  that  was  endeavouring  to  find  a  vent. 

"  Mottled-faced  man,  p'r'aps  ? "  suggested  Sam. 

Again  Mr.  Weller  shook  his  head. 

"Who  then?"  asked  Sam. 

"Your  mother-in-law,"  said  Mr.  Weller;  and  it  was  lucky 
he  did  say  it,  or  his  cheeks  must  inevitably  have  cracked, 
from  their  most  unnatural  distension. 

"  Your  mother-in-law,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  and  the 


270  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

red-nosed  man,  my  boy;  and  the  red-nosed  man.     Ho!  ho! 
ho!" 

With  this,  Mr.  Weller  launched  into  convulsions  of  laughter, 
while  Sam  regarded  him  with  a  broad  grin  gradually  over- 
spreading his  whole  countenance. 

"They've  come  to  have  a  little  serious  talk  with  you, 
Samivel,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  wiping  his  eyes.  "Don't  let  out 
nothin'  about  the  unnatural  creditor,  Sammy." 

"  Wot,  don't  they  know  who  it  is  ? "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Not  a  bit  on  it,"  replied  his  father. 

"  Vere  are  they  ?  "  said  Sam,  reciprocating  all  the  old  gentle- 
man's grins. 

"In  the  snuggery,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller.  "Catch  the 
red-nosed  man  a  goin'  any  vere  but  vere  the  liquors  is ;  not 
he,  Samivel,  not  he.  Ve'd  a  wery  pleasant  ride  along  the 
road  from  the  Markis  this  mornin',  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller, 
when  he  felt  himself  equal  to  the  task  of  speaking  in  an 
articulate  manner.  "I  drove  the  old  piebald  in  that  'ere 
little  shay-cart  as  belonged  to  your  mother-in-law's  first  wenter, 
into  vich  a  harm-cheer  wos  lifted  for  the  shepherd ;  and  I'm 
blest,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  a  look  of  deep  scorn :  "  I'm 
blest  if  they  didn't  bring  a  portable  flight  o'  steps  out  into 
the  road  a  front  o'  our  door,  for  him  to  get  up  by," 

"  You  don't  mean  that  ? "  said  Sam. 

"I  do  mean  that,  Sammy,"  replied  his  father,  "and  I  vish 
you  could  ha'  seen  how  tight  he  held  on  by  the  sides  wen  he 
did  get  up,  as  if  he  wos  afeerd  o"  being  precipitayted  down 
full  six  foot,  and  dashed  into  a  million  o'  hatoms.  He 
tumbled  in  at  last,  however,  and  avay  he  vent ;  and  I  rayther 
think,  I  say  I  rayther  think,  Samivel,  that  he  found  his  self 
a  little  jolted  wen  ve  turned  the  corners." 

"Wot,  I  s'pose  you  happened  to  drive  up  agin  a  post  or 
two?"  said  Sam. 

"I'm  afeerd,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  rapture  of  winks, 
"  I'm  afeerd  I  took  vun  or  two  on  'em,  Sammy ;  he  wos  a 
flyin'  out  o'  the  harm-cheer  all  the  way." 


APOPLECTIC  SYMPTOMS.  271 

Here  the  old  gentleman  shook  his  head  from  side  to  side, 
and  was  seized  with  a  hoarse  internal  rumbling,  accompanied 
with  a  violent  swelling  of  the  countenance,  and  a  sudden 
increase  in  the  breadth  of  all  his  features ;  symptoms  which 
alarmed  his  son  not  a  little. 

"Don't  be  frightened,  Sammy,  don't  be  frightened,""  said 
the  old  gentleman,  when,  by  dint  of  much  struggling,  and 
various  convulsive  stamps  upon  the  ground,  he  had  recovered 
his  voice.  "  It's  only  a  kind  o'  quiet  laugh  as  I'm  a  tryin' 
to  come,  Sammy.11 

"Well,  if  that's  wot  it  is,"  said  Sam,  "you'd  better  not 
try  to  come  it  agin.  You'll  find  it  rayther  a  dangerous 
inwention." 

"Don't  you  like  it,  Sammy?"  inquired  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  the  tears  still  running  down 
his  cheeks,  "  it  'ud  ha'  been  a  wery  great  accommodation  to 
me  if  I  could  ha'  done  it,  and  'ud  ha'  saved  a  good  many 
vords  atween  your  mother-in-law  and  me,  sometimes;  but  I 
am  afeerd  you're  right,  Sammy :  it's  too  much  in  the  apple- 
plexy  line — a  deal  too  much,  Samivel." 

This  conversation  brought  them  to  the  door  of  the  snuggery, 
into  Avhich  Sam — pausing  for  an  instant  to  look  over  his 
shoulder,  and  cast  a  sly  leer  at  his  respected  progenitor,  who 
was  still  giggling  behind — at  once  led  the  way. 

"  Mother-in-law,"  said  Sam,  politely  saluting  the  lady, 
"wery  much  obliged  to  you  for  this  here  wisit  Shepherd, 
how  air  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Samuel ! "  said  Mrs.  Weller.     "  This  is  dreadful." 

"  Not  a  bit  on  it,  mum,"  replied  Sam.     "  Is  it,  shepherd  ?  " 

Mr.  Stiggins  raised  his  hands,  and  turned  up  his  eyes,  till 
the  whites — or  rather  the  yellows — were  alone  visible ;  but 
made  no  reply  in  words. 

"Is  this  here  gen'l'm'n  troubled  vith  any  painful  com- 
plaint?" said  Sam,  looking  to  his  mother-in-law  for  ex- 
planation. 


272  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  The  good  man  is  grieved  to  see  you  here,  Samuel,1"  replied 
Mrs.  Weller. 

«Oh,  that's  it,  is  it?"  said  Sam.  "I  was  afeerd,  from  his 
manner,  that  he  might  ha"1  forgotten  to  take  pepper  vith 
that  'ere  last  cowcumber  he  eat.  Set  down,  sir;  ve  make 
no  extra  charge  for  the  settin1  down,  as  the  king  remarked 
wen  he  blowed  up  his  ministers." 

"  Young  man,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  ostentatiously,  "  I  fear 
you  are  not  softened  by  imprisonment." 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  replied  Sam;  "wot  wos  you 
graciously  pleased  to  hobserve?" 

"I  apprehend,  young  man,  that  your  nature  is  no  softer 
for  this  chastening,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  in  a  loud  voice, 

"  Sir,"  replied  Sam,  "  you're  wery  kind  to  say  so.  I  hope 
my  natur  is  not  a  soft  vun,  sir.  Wery  much  obliged  to  you 
for  your  good  opinion,  sir." 

At  this  point  of  the  conversation,  a  sound,  indecorously 
approaching  to  a  laugh,  was  heard  to  proceed  from  the  chair 
in  which  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  was  seated ;  upon  which  Mrs. 
Weller,  on  a  hasty  consideration  of  all  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  considered  it  her  bounden  duty  to  become  gradually 
hysterical. 

"Weller,"  said  Mrs.  W.  (the  old  gentleman  was  seated  in 
a  corner) ;  "  Weller !  Come  forth." 

"Wery  much  obleeged  to  you,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr. 
Weller;  "but  I'm  quite  comfortable  vere  I  am." 

Upon  this,  Mrs.  Weller  burst  into  tears. 

"  Wofs  gone  wrong,  mum  ?  "  said  Sam. 

"  Oh,  Samuel ! "  replied  Mrs.  Weller,  "  your  father  makes 
me  wretched.  Will  nothing  do  him  good?" 

"Do  you  hear  this  here?"  said  Sam.  "Lady  wants  to 
know  vether  nothin1  'ull  do  you  good." 

"Wery  much  indebted  to  Mrs.  Weller  for  her  po-lite 
inquiries,  Sammy,"  replied  the  old  gentleman.  "I  think  a 
pipe  vould  benefit  me  a  good  deal.  Could  I  be  accommodated, 
Sammy  ?  " 


MR.   STIGGINS  IS  ATMIRST.  273 

Here  Mrs.  Weller  let  fall  some  more  tears,  and  Mr.  Stiggins 
groaned. 

"  Hallo !  Here's  this  unfortunate  genTnVn  took  ill  agin," 
said  Sam,  looking  round.  "  Were  do  you  feel  it  now,  sir  ? " 

" In  the  same  place,  young  man,"  rejoined  Mr.  Stiggins: 
"in  the  same  place." 

"  Were  may  that  be,  sir  ? "  inquired  Sam,  with  great  out- 
ward simplicity. 

"In  the  buzzim,  young  man,"  replied  Mr.  Stiggins,  placing 
his  umbrella  on  his  waistcoat. 

At  this  affecting  reply,  Mrs.  Weller,  being  wholly  unable 
to  suppress  her  feelings,  sobbed  aloud,  and  stated  her  convic- 
tion that  the  red-nosed  man  was  a  saint;  whereupon  Mr. 
Weller,  senior,  ventured  to  suggest,  in  an  undertone,  that  he 
must  be  the  representative  of  the  united  parishes  of  Saint 
Simon  Without,  and  Saint, Walker  Within. 

"  I'm  afeerd,  mum,"  said  Sam,  "  that  this  here  genTm'n, 
with  the  twist  in  his  countenance,  feels  rayther  thirsty,  with 
the  melancholy  spectacle  afore  him.  Is  it  the  case,  mum  ? " 

The  worthy  lady  looked  at  Mr.  Stiggins  for  a  reply ;  that 
gentleman,  with  many  rollings  of  the  eye,  clenched  his  throat 
with  his  right  hand,  and  mimicked  the  act  of  swallowing,  to 
intimate  that  he  was  athirst. 

"I  am  afraid,  Samuel,  that  his  feelings  have  made  him  so, 
indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Weller,  mournfully. 

"  Wot's  your  usual  tap,  sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"Oh,  my  dear  young  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Stiggins,  "all 
taps  is  vanities ! " 

"  Too  true,  too  true,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Weller,  murmuring 
a  groan,  and  shaking  her  head  assentingly. 

"  Well,"  said  Sam,  "  I  des-say  they  may  be,  sir ;  but  which 
is  your  partickler  wanity.  Vich  wanity  do  you  like  the 
flavour  on  best,  sir  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  young  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Stiggins,  "  I 
despise  them  all.  If,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  "  if  there  is  any  one 
of  them  less  odious  than  another,  it  is  the  liquor  called  rum. 

VOL.  n.  T 


274  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Warm,  my  dear  young  friend,  with  three  lumps  of  sugar 
to  the  tumbler."" 

"Wery  sorry  to  say,  sir,"  said  Sam,  "that  they  don't 
allow  that  particular  wanity  to  be  sold  in  this  here  establish- 
ment."" 

"Oh,  the  hardness  of  heart  of  these  inveterate  men!" 
ejaculated  Mr.  Stiggins,  "  Oh,  the  accursed  cruelty  of  these 
inhuman  persecutors ! " 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Stiggins  again  cast  up  his  eyes,  and 
rapped  his  breast  with  his  umbrella;  and  it  is  but  justice  to 
the  reverend  gentleman  to  say,  that  his  indignation  appeared 
very  real  and  unfeigned  indeed. 

After  Mrs.  Weller  and  the  red-nosed  gentleman  had  com- 
mented on  this  inhuman  usage  in  a  very  forcible  manner,  and 
had  vented  a  variety  of  pious  and  holy  execrations  against 
its  authors,  the  latter  recommended  a  bottle  of  port  wine, 
warmed  with  a  little  water,  spice,  and  sugar,  as  being  grateful 
to  the  stomach,  and  savouring  less  of  vanity  than  many  other 
compounds.  It  was  accordingly  ordered  to  be  prepared. 
Pending  its  preparation  the  red-nosed  man  and  Mrs.  Weller 
looked  at  the  elder  W.  and  groaned. 

"  Well,  Sammy,"  said  that  gentleman,  "  I  hope  you'll  find 
your  spirits  rose  by  this  here  lively  wisit.  Wery  cheerful 
and  improvm'  conwersation,  ain't  it,  Sammy  ?" 

"  You're  a  reprobate,"  replied  Sam ;  "  and  I  desire  you 
won't  address  no  more  0"*  them  ungraceful  remarks  to  me." 

So  far  from  being  edified  by  this  very  proper  reply,  the 
elder  Mr.  Weller  at  once  relapsed  into  a  broad  grin ;  and  this 
inexorable  conduct  causing  the  lady  and  Mr.  Stiggins  to  close 
their  eyes,  and  rock  themselves  to  and  fro  on  their  chairs, 
in  a  troubled  manner,  he  furthermore  indulged  in  several 
acts  of  pantomime,  indicative  of  a  desire  to  pummel  and 
wring  the  nose  of  the  aforesaid  Stiggins :  the  performance  of 
which,  appeared  to  afford  him  great  mental  relief.  The  old 
gentleman  very  narrowly  escaped  detection  in  one  instance; 
for  Mr.  Stiggins  happening  to  give  a  start  on  the  arrival  of 


A  DROP  OF  NEGUS.  275 

the  negus,  brought  his  head  in  smart  contact  with  the  clenched 
fist  with  which  Mr.  Weller  had  been  describing  imaginary 
fireworks  in  the  air,  within  two  inches  of  his  ear,  for  some 
minutes. 

"  Wot  are  you  a  reachin'  out  your  hand  for  the  tumbler 
in  that  'ere  sawage  way  for?""  said  Sam,  with  great  prompti- 
tude. "Don't  you  see  you've  hit  the  genTm'n?" 

"I  didn't  go  to  do  it,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  in  some 
degree  abashed  by  the  very  unexpected  occurrence  of  the 
incident. 

"  Try  an  in'ard  application,  sir,"  said  Sam,  as  the  red-nosed 
gentleman  rubbed  his  head  with  a  rueful  visage.  "Wot  do 
you  think  o'  that,  for  a  go  o'  wanity  warm,  sir  ? " 

Mr.  Stiggins  made  no  verbal  answer,  but  his  manner  was 
expressive.  He  tasted  the  contents  of  the  glass  which  Sam 
had  placed  in  his  hand;  put  his  umbrella  on  the  floor,  and 
tasted  it  again :  passing  his  hand  placidly  across  his  stomach 
twice  or  thrice;  he  then  drank  the  whole  at  a  breath,  and 
smacking  his  lips,  held  out  the  tumbler  for  more. 

Nor  was  Mrs.  Weller  behind-hand  in  doing  justice  to  the 
composition.  The  good  lady  began  by  protesting  that  she 
couldn't  touch  a  drop — then  took  a  small  drop — then  a 
large  drop — then  a  great  many  drops ;  and  her  feelings  being 
of  the  nature  of  those  substances  which  are  powerfully  affected 
by  the  application  of  strong  waters,  she  dropped  a  tear  with 
every  drop  of  negus,  and  so  got  on,  melting  the  feelings 
down,  until  at  length  she  had  arrived  at  a  very  pathetic  and 
decent  pitch  of  misery. 

The  elder  Mr.  Weller  observed  these  signs  and  tokens  with 
many  manifestations  of  disgust,  and  when,  after  a  second  jug 
of  the  same,  Mr.  Stiggins  began  to  sigh  in  a  dismal  manner, 
he  plainly  evinced  his  disapprobation  of  the  whole  proceed- 
ings, by  sundry  incoherent  ramblings  of  speech,  among  which 
frequent  angry  repetitions  of  the  word  "  gammon  "  were  alone 
distinguishable  to  the  ear. 

'Til  tell  you  wot  it  is,  Samivel,  my  boy,"  whispered  the 


276  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

old  gentleman  into  his  son's  ear,  after  a  long  and  steadfast 
contemplation  of  his  lady  and  Mr.  Stiggins ;  "  I  think  there 
must  be  somethin1  wrong  in  your  mother-in-law's  inside, 
as  veil  as  in  that  o'  the  red-nosed  man." 

"  Wot  do  you  mean  ? "  said  Sam. 

"I  mean  this  here,  Sammy,"  replied  the  old  gentleman, 
"  that  wot  they  drink,  don't  seem  no  nourishment  to  'em ; 
it  all  turns  to  warm  water,  and  comes  a'  pourin'  out  o'  their 
eyes.  Tend  upon  it,  Sammy,  it's  a  constitootional  infirmity." 

Mr.  Weller  delivered  this  scientific  opinion  with  many 
confirmatory  frowns  and  nods ;  which,  Mrs.  Weller  remarking, 
and  concluding  that  they  bore  some  disparaging  reference 
either  to  herself  or  to  Mr.  Stiggins,  or  to  both,  was  on  the 
point  of  becoming  infinitely  worse,  when  Mr.  Stiggins,  getting 
on  his  legs  as  well  as  he  could,  proceeded  to  deliver  an 
edifying  discourse  for  the  benefit  of  the  company,  but  more 
especially  of  Mr.  Samuel,  whom  he  adjured  in  moving  terms 
to  be  upon  his  guard  in  that  sink  of  iniquity  into  which  he 
was  cast ;  to  abstain  from  all  hypocrisy  and  pride  of  heart ; 
and  to  take  in  all  things  exact  pattern  and  copy  by  him 
(Stiggins),  in  which  case  he  might  calculate  on  arriving, 
sooner  or  later  at  the  comfortable  conclusion,  that,  like  him, 
he  was  a  most  estimable  and  blameless  character,  and  that  all 
his  acquaintance  and  friends  were  hopelessly  abandoned  and 
profligate  wretches.  Which  consideration,  he  said,  could  not 
but  afford  him  the  liveliest  satisfaction. 

He  furthermore  conjured  him  to  avoid,  above  all  things, 
the  vice  of  intoxication,  which  he  likened  unto  the  filthy 
habits  of  swine,  and  to  those  poisonous  and  baleful  drugs 
which  being  chewed  in  the  mouth,  are  said  to  filch  away  the 
memory.  At  this  point  of  his  discourse,  the  reverend  and 
red-nosed  gentleman  became  singularly  incoherent,  and  stag- 
gering to  and  fro  in  the  excitement  of  his  eloquence,  was 
fain  to  catch  at  the  back  of  a  chair  to  preserve  his  perpen- 
dicular. 

Mr.  Stiggins  did  not  desire  his  hearers  to  be  upon  their 


AN  EDIFYING  DISCOURSE.  277 

guard  against  those  false  prophets  and  wretched  mockers  of 
religion,  who,  without  sense  to  expound  its  first  doctrines,  or 
hearts  to  feel  its  first  principles,  are  more  dangerous  members 
of  society  than  the  common  criminal ;  imposing,  as  they 
necessarily  do,  upon  the  weakest  and  worst  informed,  casting 
scorn  and  contempt  on  what  should  be  held  most  sacred,  and 
bringing  into  partial  disrepute  large  bodies  of  virtuous  and 
well-conducted  persons  of  many  excellent  sects  and  persuasions. 
But  as  he  leant  over  the  back  of  the  chair  for  a  considerable 
time,  and  closing  one  eye,  winked  a  good  deal  with  the  other, 
it  is  presumed  that  he  thought  all  this,  but  kept  it  to  himself. 

During  the  delivery  of  the  oration,  Mrs.  Weller  sobbed 
and  wept  at  the  end  of  the  paragraphs :  while  Sam,  sitting 
cross-legged  on  a  chair  and  resting  his  arms  on  the  top-rail, 
regarded  the  speaker  with  great  suavity  and  blandness  of 
demeanour;  occasionally  bestowing  a  look  of  recognition  on 
the  old  gentleman,  who  was  delighted  at  the  beginning,  and 
went  to  sleep  about  half-way. 

"Brayvo;  wery  pretty!"  said  Sam,  when  the  red-nosed 
man  having  finished,  pulled  his  worn  gloves  on  :  thereby  thrust- 
ing his  fingers  through  the  broken  tops  till  the  knuckles  were 
disclosed  to  view.  "Wery  pretty." 

"I  hope  it  may  do  you  good,  Samuel,'1  said  Mrs.  Weller 
solemnly. 

"  I  think  it  vill,  mum,"  replied  Sam. 

"  I  wish  I  could  hope  that  it  would  do  your  father  good," 
said  Mrs.  Weller. 

"  Thankee,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  senior.  "  How  do 
you  find  yourself  arter  it,  my  love  ? " 

"  Scoffer ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Weller. 

"  Benighted  man ! "  said  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins. 

"  If  I  don't  get  no  better  light  than  that"  'ere  moonshine  o' 
yourn,  my  worthy  creetur,"  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  "it's 
wery  likely  as  I  shall  continey  to  be  a  night  coach  till  I'm 
took  off  the  road  altogether.  Now,  Mrs.  We,  if  the  piebald 
stands  at  livery  much  longer,  he'll  stand  at  nothin'  as  we  go 


278  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

back,  and  p'raps  that  'ere  harm  cheer  'till  be  tipped  over  into 
some  hedge  or  another,  with  the  shepherd  in  it." 

At  this  supposition,  the  reverend  Mr.  Stiggins,  in  evident 
consternation,  gathered  up  his  hat  and  umbrella,  and  proposed 
an  immediate  departure,  to  which  Mrs.  Weller  assented.  Sam 
walked  with  them  to  the  lodge-gate,  and  took  a  dutiful 
leave. 

"A-do,  Samivel,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"Wot's  a-do?"  inquired  Sammy. 

"Well,  good-bye,  then,""  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Oh,  that's  wot  you're  a  aimin'  at,  is  it  ? "  said  Sam. 
«  Good-bye!" 

"  Sammy,"  whispered  Mr.  Weller,  looking  cautiously  round ; 
"  my  duty  to  your  gov'ner,  and  tell  him  if  he  thinks  better 
o'  this  here  bis'ness,  to  commoonicate  vith  me.  Me  and  a 
cab'net-maker  has  dewised  a  plan  for  gettin'  him  out.  A 
pianner,  Samivel,  a  pianner ! "  said  Mr.  Weller,  striking  his 
son  on  the  chest  with  the  back  of  his  hand,  and  falling  back 
a  step  or  two. 

"Wot  do  you  mean?"  said  Sam. 

"A  pianner  forty,  Samivel,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  still 
more  mysterious  manner,  "as  he  can  have  on  hire;  vun  as 
von't  play,  Sammy." 

"And  wot  'ud  be  the  good  o'  that?"  said  Sam. 

"Let  him  send  to  my  friend,  the  cab'net-maker,  to  fetch 
it  back,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Are  you  avake, 
now?" 

"No,"  rejoined  Sam. 

"There  ain't  no  vurks  in  it,"  whispered  his  father.  "It 
'ull  hold  him  easy,  vith  his  hat  and  shoes  on,  and  breathe 
through  the  legs,  vich  his  holler.  Have  a  passage  ready  taken 
for  'Merriker.  The  'Merrikin  gov'ment  will  never  give  him 
up,  ven  they  find  as  he's  got  money  to  spend,  Sammy.  Let 
the  gov'ner  stop  there,  till  Mrs.  Bardell's  dead,  or  Mr.  Dodson 
and  Fogg's  hung  (wich  last  ewent  I  think  is  the  most  likely 
to  happen  first,  Sammy),  and  then  let  him  come  back  and 


AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE.  279 

write  a  book  about  the  'Merrikins  as1!!  pay  all  his  expenses 
and  more,  if  he  blows  'em  up  enough."" 

Mr.  Weller  delivered  this  hurried  abstract  of  his  plot  with 
great  vehemence  of  whisper ;  then,  as  if  fearful  of  weakening 
the  effect  of  the  tremendous  communication,  by  any  further 
dialogue,  he  gave  the  coachman's  salute,  and  vanished. 

Sam  had  scarcely  recovered  his  usual  composure  of  counte- 
nance, which  had  been  greatly  disturbed  by  the  secret  com- 
munication of  his  respected  relative,  when  Mr.  Pickwick 
accosted  him. 

"  Sam,"  said  that  gentleman. 

"Sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"I  am  going  for  a  walk  round  the  prison,  and  I  wish  you 
to  attend  me.  I  see  a  prisoner  we  know  coming  this  way, 
Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  smiling. 

"Wich,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller;  "the  genTm'n  vith 
the  head  o'  hair,  or  the  interestin'  captive  in  the  stockin's  ? " 

"  Neither,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  He  is  an  older  friend 
of  yours,  Sam." 

"CT  mine,  sir?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller. 

"  You  recollect  the  gentleman  very  well,  I  dare  say,  Sam," 
replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  "or  else  you  are  more  unmindful  of 
your  old  acquaintances  than  I  think  you  are.  Hush!  not  a 
word,  Sam ;  not  a  syllable.  Here  he  is." 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  spoke,  Jingle  walked  up.  He  looked  less 
miserable  than  before,  being  clad  in  a  half- worn  suit  of  clothes, 
which,  with  Mr.  Pickwick's  assistance,  had  been  released  from 
the  pawnbroker's.  He  wore  clean  linen  too,  and  had  had 
his  hair  cut.  He  was  very  pale  and  thin,  however ;  and  as 
he  crept  slowly  up,  leaning  on  a  stick,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
he  had  suffered  severely  from  illness  and  want,  and  was  still 
very  weak.  He  took  off  his  hat  as  Mr.  Pickwick  saluted 
him,  and  seemed  much  humbled  and  abashed  at  sight  of 
Sam  Weller. 

Following  close  at  his  heels,  came  Mr.  Job  Trotter,  in 
the  catalogue  of  whose  vices,  want  of  faith  and  attachment 


280  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

to  his  companion  could  at  all  events  find  no  place.  He  was 
still  ragged  and  squalid,  but  his  face  was  not  quite  so  hollow 
as  on  his  first  meeting  with  Mr.  Pickwick,  a  few  days  before. 
As  he  took  off  his  hat  to  our  benevolent  old  friend,  he 
murmured  some  broken  expressions  of  gratitude,  and  muttered 
something  about  having  been  saved  from  starving. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  impatiently  interrupting 
him,  "you  can  follow  with  Sam.  I  want  to  speak  to  you, 
Mr.  Jingle.  Can  you  walk  without  his  arm?*" 

"Certainly,  sir — all  ready — not  too  fast — legs  shaky — 
head  queer — round  and  round — earthquaky  sort  of  feeling 
—very." 

"Here,  give  me  your  arm,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  Jingle ;  "  won't  indeed — rather  not." 

" Nonsense,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "lean  upon  me,  I  desire, 
sir." 

Seeing  that  he  was  confused  and  agitated,  and  uncertain 
what  to  do,  Mr.  Pickwick  cut  the  matter  short  by  drawing 
the  invalided  stroller's  arm  through  his,  and  leading  him 
away,  without  saying  another  word  about  it. 

During  the  whole  of  this  time,  the  countenance  of  Mr. 
Samuel  Weller  had  exhibited  an  expression  of  the  most  over- 
whelming and  absorbing  astonishment  that  the  imagination 
can  portray.  After  looking  from  Job  to  Jingle,  and  from 
Jingle  to  Job  in  profound  silence,  he  softly  ejaculated  the 
words,  "  Well,  I  am  damn'd ! "  Which  he  repeated  at  least 
a  score  of  times :  after  which  exertion,  he  appeared  wholly 
bereft  of  speech,  and  again  cast  his  eyes,  first  upon  the  one 
and  then  upon  the  other,  in  mute  perplexity  and  bewilder- 
ment. 

"  Now,  Sam ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  back. 

"  I'm  a  comin',  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  mechanically  follow- 
ing his  master ;  and  still  he  lifted  not  his  eyes  from  Mr.  Job 
Trotter,  who  walked  at  his  side,  in  silence. 

Job  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  for  some  time.  Sam, 
with  his  glued  to  Job's  countenance,  ran  up  against  the  people 


A  CHANGE  FOR  THE  WORSE.  281 

who  were  walking  about,  and  fell  over  little  children,  and 
stumbled  against  steps  and  railings,  without  appearing  at  all 
sensible  of  it,  until  Job,  looking  stealthily  up,  said : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Weller  ? " 

"  It  is  him ! "  exclaimed  Sam :  and  having  established  Job's 
identity  beyond  all  doubt,  he  smote  his  leg,  and  vented  his 
feelings  in  a  long  shrill  whistle. 

"Things  has  altered  with  me,  sir,"  said  Job. 

"I  should  think  they  had,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller,  survey- 
ing his  companion's  rags  with  undisguised  wonder.  "This  is 
rayther  a  change  for  the  worse,  Mr.  Trotter,  as  the  genTnTn 
said,  wen  he  got  two  doubtful  shillings  and  sixpenn'orth  o' 
pocket  pieces  for  a  good  half-crown." 

"It  is,  indeed,"  replied  Job,  shaking  his  head.  "There 
is  no  deception  now,  Mr.  Weller.  Tears,"  said  Job,  with  a 
look  of  momentary  slyness,  "tears  are  not  the  only  proofs 
of  distress,  nor  the  best  ones." 

"  No,  they  ain't,"  replied  Sam,  expressively. 

"They  may  be  put  on,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Job. 

"I  know  they  may,"  said  Sam;  "some  people,  indeed, 
has  'em  always  ready  laid  on,  and  can  pull  out  the  plug 
wenever  they  likes." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Job ;  "  but  these  sort  of  things  are  not  so 
easily  counterfeited,  Mr.  Weller,  and  it  is  a  more  painful 
process  to  get  them  up."  As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  to  his 
sallow  sunken  cheeks,  and,  drawing  up  his  coat  sleeves,  dis- 
closed an  arm  which  looked  as  if  the  bone  could  be  broken 
at  a  touch:  so  sharp  and  brittle  did  it  appear,  beneath  its 
thin  covering  of  flesh. 

"Wot  have  you  been  a  doin'  to  yourself?"  said  Sam, 
recoiling. 

**  Nothing,"  replied  Job. 

"  Nothin' ! "  echoed  Sam. 

"I  have  been  doin'  nothing  for  many  weeks  past,"  said 
Job ;  "  and  eating  and  drinking  almost  as  little." 

Sam  took  one  comprehensive  glance  at  Mr.  Trotter's  thin 


282  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

face  and  wretched  apparel ;  and  then,  seizing  him  by  the  arm, 
commenced  dragging  him  away  with  great  violence. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Mr.  Weller?"  said  Job,  vainly 
struggling  in  the  powerful  grasp  of  his  old  enemy. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Sam  ;  "  come  on  ! "  He  deigned  no  further 
explanation  until  they  reached  the  tap ;  and  then  called  for 
a  pot  of  porter,  which  was  speedily  produced. 

"  Now,""  said  Sam,  "  drink  that  up,  ev'ry  drop  on  it,  and 
then  turn  the  pot  upside  down,  to  let  me  see  as  you've  took 
the  med'cine." 

"  But,  my  dear  Mr.  Weller,"  remonstrated  Job. 

"  Down  vith  it ! "  said  Sam,  peremptorily. 

Thus  admonished,  Mr.  Trotter  raised  the  pot  to  his  lips, 
and,  by  gentle  and  almost  imperceptible  degrees,  tilted  it 
into  the  air.  He  paused  once,  and  only  once,  to  draw  a  long 
breath,  but  without  raising  his  face  from  the  vessel,  which, 
in  a  few  moments  thereafter,  he  held  out  at  arm's  length, 
bottom  upward.  Nothing  fell  upon  the  ground  but  a  few 
particles  of  froth,  which  slowly  detached  themselves  from  the 
rim,  and  trickled  lazily  down. 

"Well  done!"  said  Sam.  "How  do  you  find  yourself 
arter  it?" 

"  Better,  sir.     I  think  I  am  better,"  responded  Job. 

"  O1  course  you  air,"  said  Sam,  argumentatively.  "  It's  like 
puttin'  gas  in  a  balloon.  I  can  see  with  the  naked  eye  that 
you  gets  stouter  under  the  operation.  Wot  do  you  say  to 
another  o1  the  same  di-mensions  ?  " 

"I  would  rather  not,  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir," 
replied  Job,  "much  rather  not." 

"  Veil,  then,  wot  do  you  say  to  some  wittles  ? "  inquired 
Sam. 

"Thanks  to  your  worthy  governor,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Trotter, 
"we  have  half  a  leg  of  mutton,  baked,  at  a  quarter  before 
three,  with  the  potatoes  under  it  to  save  boiling." 

"  Wot !  Has  he  been  a  purwidin1  for  you  ? "  asked  Sam, 
emphatically. 


MR.  WELLER  CONFIDES  A  SECRET.        283 

"  He  has,  sir,"  replied  Job.  "  More  than  that,  Mr.  Weller ; 
my  master  being  very  ill,  he  got  us  a  room — we  were  in  a 
kennel  before — and  paid  for  it,  sir;  and  come  to  look  at  us, 
at  night,  when  nobody  should  know.  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Job, 
with  real  tears  in  his  eyes,  for  once,  "I  could  serve  that 
gentleman  till  I  fell  down  dead  at  his  feet" 

"I  say!"  said  Sam,  "Til  trouble  you,  my  friend!  None 
o1  that!" 

Job  Trotter  looked  amazed. 

"  None  o1  that,  I  say,  young  feller,"  repeated  Sam,  firmly. 
"No  man  serves  him  but  me.  And  now  we're  upon  it,  111 
let  you  into  another  secret  besides  that,"  said  Sam,  as  he 
paid  for  the  beer.  "I  never  heerd,  mind  you,  nor  read  of 
in  story-books,  nor  see  in  picters,  any  angel  in  tights  and 
gaiters — not  even  in  spectacles,  as  I  remember,  though  that 
may  ha1  been  done  for  anythin1  I  know  to  the  contrairey — 
but  mark  my  vords,  Job  Trotter,  he's  a  regular  thorough-bred 
angel  for  all  that ;  and  let  me  see  the  man  as  wenturs  to 
tell  me  he  knows  a  better  vun."  With  this  defiance,  Mr. 
Weller  buttoned  up  his  change  in  a  side  pocket,  and,  with 
many  confirmatory  nods  and  gestures  by  the  way,  proceeded 
in  search  of  the  subject  of  discourse. 

They  found  Mr.  Pickwick,  in  company  with  Jingle,  talking 
very  earnestly,  and  not  bestowing  a  look  on  the  groups  who 
were  congregated  on  the  racket-ground  ;  they  were  very  motley 
groups  too,  and  worth  the  looking  at,  if  it  were  only  in  idle 
curiosity. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  Sam  and  his  companion 
drew  nigh,  "you  will  see  how  your  health  becomes,  and 
think  about  it  meanwhile.  Make  the  statement  out  for  me 
when^you  feel  yourself  equal  to  the  task,  and  I  will  discuss 
the  subject  with  you  when  I  have  considered  it.  Now,  go 
to  your  room.  You  are  tired,  and  not  strong  enough  to  be 
out  long." 

Mr.  Alfred  Jingle,  without  one  spark  of  his  old  animation 
— with  nothing  even  of  the  dismal  gaiety  which  he  had 


284  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

assumed  when  Mr.  Pickwick  first  stumbled  on  him  in  his 
misery — bowed  low  without  speaking,  and,  motioning  to 
Job  not  to  follow  him  just  yet,  crept  slowly  away. 

"Curious  scene  this,  is  it  not,  Sam?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
looking  good-humouredly  round. 

"Wery  much  so,  sir,1'  replied  Sam.  "  Wonders  'ull  never 
cease,"  added  Sam,  speaking  to  himself.  "Fm  wery  much 
mistaken  if  that  'ere  Jingle  worn't  a  doin'  somethin1  in  the 
water-cart  way ! " 

The  area  formed  by  the  wall  in  that  part  of  the  Fleet  in 
which  Mr.  Pickwick  stood,  was  just  wide  enough  to  make 
a  good  racket  court;  one  side  being  formed,  of  course,  by 
the  wall  itself  and  the  other  by  that  portion  of  the  prison 
which  looked  (or  rather  would  have  looked,  but  for  the  wall) 
towards  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  Sauntering  or  sitting  about, 
in  every  possible  attitude  of  listless  idleness,  were  a  great 
number  of  debtors,  the  major  part  of  whom  were  waiting  in 
prison  until  their  day  of  "going  up"  before  the  Insolvent 
Court  should  arrive;  while  others  had  been  remanded  for 
various  terms,  which  they  were  idling  away,  as  they  best 
could.  Some  were  shabby,  some  were  smart,  many  dirty,  a 
few  clean ;  but  there  they  all  lounged,  and  loitered,  and 
slunk  about,  with  as  little  spirit  or  purpose  as  the  beasts  in 
a  menagerie. 

Lolling  from  the  windows  which  commanded  a  view  of  this 
promenade,  were  a  number  of  persons,  some  in  noisy  conversa- 
tion with  their  acquaintance  below,  others  playing  at  ball 
with  some  adventurous  throwers  outside,  others  looking  on 
at  the  racket-players,  or  watching  the  boys  as  they  cried  the 
game.  Dirty  slipshod  women  passed  and  re-passed,  on  their 
way  to  the  cooking-house  in  one  corner  of  the  yard ;  children 
screamed,  and  fought,  and  played  together,  in  another;  the 
tumbling  of  the  skittles,  and  the  shouts  of  the  players, 
mingled  perpetually  with  these  and  a  hundred  other  sounds; 
and  all  was  noise  and  tumult — save  in  a  little  miserable  shed 
a  few  yards  off,  where  lay,  all  quiet  and  ghastly,  the  body 


A  WHISTLING-SHOP.  285 

of  the  Chancery  prisoner  who  had  died  the  night  before, 
awaiting  the  mockery  of  an  inquest.  The  body !  It  is  the 
lawyer's  term  for  the  restless  whirling  mass  of  cares  and 
anxieties,  affections,  hopes,  and  griefs,  that  make  up  the 
living  man.  The  law  had  his  body ;  and  there  it  lay,  clothed 
in  grave  clothes,  an  awful  witness  to  its  tender  mercy. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  a  whistling-shop,  sir?"  inquired 
Job  Trotter. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  was  Mr.  Pickwick's  counter  inquiry. 

"  A  vistlin'  shop,  sir,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller. 

"What  is  that,  Sam?  A  bird-fancier's?"  inquired  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  no,  sir,"  replied  Job ;  "  a  whistling-shop, 
sir,  is  where  they  sell  spirits."  Mr.  Job  Trotter  briefly 
explained  here,  that  all  persons,  being  prohibited  under 
heavy  penalties  from  conveying  spirits  into  debtors'*  prisons, 
and  such  commodities  being  highly  prized  by  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  confined  therein,  it  had  occurred  to  some  speculative 
turnkey  to  connive,  for  certain  lucrative  considerations,  at 
two  or  three  prisoners  retailing  the  favourite  article  of  gin, 
for  their  own  profit  and  advantage. 

"This  plan,  you  see,  sir,  has  been  gradually  introduced 
into  all  the  prisons  for  debt,"  said  Mr.  Trotter. 

"And  it  has  this  wery  great  advantage,"  said  Sam,  "that 
the  turnkeys  takes  wery  good  care  to  seize  hold  o'  ev'ry  body 
but  them  as  pays  'em,  that  attempts  the  willainy,  and  wen 
it  gets  in  the  papers  they're  applauded  for  their  wigilance; 
so  it  cuts  two  ways — frightens  other  people  from  the  trade, 
and  elewates  their  own  characters." 

"  Exactly  so,  Mr.  Weller,"  observed  Job. 

"Well,  but  are  these  rooms  never  searched,  to  ascertain 
whether  any  spirits  are  concealed  in  them  ? "  said  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. 

"Cert'nly  they  are,  sir,"  replied  Sam;  "but  the  turnkeys 
knows  beforehand,  and  gives  the  word  to  the  wistlers,  and 
you  may  wistle  for  it  wen  you  go  to  look." 


286  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

By  this  time,  Job  had  tapped  at  a  door,  which  was  opened 
by  a  gentleman  with  an  uncombed  head,  who  bolted  it  after 
them  when  they  had  walked  in,  and  grinned;  upon  which 
Job  grinned,  and  Sam  also ;  whereupon  Mr.  Pickwick,  thinking 
it  might  be  expected  of  him,  kept  on  smiling  to  the  end  of 
the  interview. 

The  gentleman  with  the  uncombed  head  appeared  quite 
satisfied  with  this  mute  announcement  of  their  business,  and, 
producing  a  flat  stone  bottle,  which  might  hold  about  a 
couple  of  quarts,  from  beneath  his  bedstead,  filled  out  three 
glasses  of  gin,  which  Job  Trotter  and  Sam  disposed  of  in  a 
most  workmanlike  manner. 

"  Any  more  ?  "  said  the  whistling  gentleman. 

«  No  more,11  replied  Job  Trotter. 

Mr.  Pickwick  paid,  the  door  was  unbolted,  and  out 
they  came;  the  uncombed  gentleman  bestowing  a  friendly 
nod  upon  Mr.  Roker,  who  happened  to  be  passing  at  the 
moment. 

From  this  spot,  Mr.  Pickwick  wandered  along  all  the 
galleries,  up  and  down  all  the  staircases,  and  once  again 
round  the  whole  area  of  the  yard.  The  great  body  of  the 
prison  population  appeared  to  be  Mivins,  and  Smangle,  and 
the  parson,  and  the  butcher,  and  the  leg,  over  and  over, 
and  over  again.  There  were  the  same  squalor,  the  same 
turmoil  and  noise,  the  same  general  characteristics,  in  every 
corner;  in  the  best  and  the  worst  alike.  The  whole  place 
seemed  restless  and  troubled;  and  the  people  were  crowding 
and  flitting  to  and  fro,  like  the  shadows  in  an  uneasy 
dream. 

"I  have  seen  enough,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  he  threw 
himself  into  a  chair  in  his  little  apartment.  "  My  head  aches 
with  these  scenes,  and  my  heart  too.  Henceforth  I  will  be 
a  prisoner  in  my  own  room."11 

And  Mr.  Pickwick  steadfastly  adhered  to  this  determina- 
tion. For  three  long  months  he  remained  shut  up,  all  day; 
only  stealing  out  at  night,  to  breathe  the  air,  when  the 


MR.  PICKWICK'S  RESOLUTION.  287 

greater  part  of  his  fellow  prisoners  were  in  bed  or  carousing 
in  their  rooms.  His  health  was  beginning  to  suffer  from  the 
closeness  of  the  confinement,  but  neither  the  often-repeated 
entreaties  of  Perker  and  his  friends,  nor  the  still  more  fre- 
quently-repeated warnings  and  admonitions  of  Mr.  Samuel 
Weller,  could  induce  him  to  alter  one  jot  of  his  inflexible 
resolution. 


.-•<  £M& 


' 
i&ttii  itucMitfc';  ' 

••':  Unfa  r\'ti  • 
lJ  T.H'I. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

RECORDS  A  TOUCHING  ACT  OF  DELICATE  FEELING,  NOT  UNMIXED 
WITH  PLEASANTRY,  ACHIEVED  AND  PERFORMED  BY  MESSRS. 
DODSON  AND  FOGG. 

IT  was  within  a  week  of  the  close  of  the  month  of  July,  that 
a  hackney  cabriolet,  number  unrecorded,  was  seen  to  proceed 
at  a  rapid  pace  up  Goswell  Street ;  three  people  were  squeezed 
into  it  besides  the  driver,  Avho  sat  in  his  own  particular  little 
dickey  at  the  side ;  over  the  apron  were  hung  two  shawls,  be- 
longing to  two  small  vixenish-looking  ladies  under  the  apron ; 
between  whom,  compressed  into  a  very  small  compass,  was 
stowed  away,  a  gentleman  of  heavy  and  subdued  demeanour, 
who,  whenever  he  ventured  to  make  an  observation,  was 
snapped  up  short  by  one  of  the  vixenish  ladies  before-men- 
tioned. Lastly,  the  two  vixenish  ladies  and  the  heavy  gentle- 
man were  giving  the  driver  contradictory  directions,  all 
tending  to  the  one  point  that  he  should  stop  at  Mrs.  Bardell's 
door;  which  the  heavy  gentleman,  in  direct  opposition  to, 
and  defiance  of,  the  vixenish  ladies,  contended  was  a  green 
door  and  not  a  yellow  one. 

"Stop  at  the  house  with  the  green  door,  driver,11  said  the 
heavy  gentleman. 

"Oh!  You  perwerse  creetur!"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
vixenish  ladies.  "Drive  to  the  ouse  with  the  yellow  door, 
cabmin.11 

Upon  this,  the  cabman,  who  in  a  sudden  effort  to  pull  up 


THE   WRONG  HOUSE.  289 

at  the  house  with  the  green  door,  had  pulled  the  horse  up  so 
high  that  he  nearly  pulled  him  backward  into  the  cabriolet, 
let  the  animal's  fore  legs  down  to  the  ground  again,  and 
paused. 

"  Now  vere  am  I  to  pull  up  ?  "  inquired  the  driver.  "  Settle 
it  among  yourselves.  All  I  ask  is,  vere?" 

Here  the  contest  was  renewed  with  increased  violence; 
and  the  horse  being  troubled  with  a  fly  on  his  nose,  the 
cabman  humanely  employed  his  leisure  in  lashing  him  about 
on  the  head,  on  the  counter-irritation  principle. 

"Most  wotes  carries  the  day!"  said  one  of  the  vixenish 
ladies  at  length.  "The  ouse  with  the  yellow  door,  cabmin." 

But  after  the  cabriolet  had  dashed  up,  in  splendid  style, 
to  the  house  with  the  yellow  door :  "  making,"  as  one  of  the 
vixenish  maidens  triumphantly  said,  "acterrally  more  noise 
than  if  one  had  come  in  one's  own  carriage" — and  after  the 
driver  had  dismounted  to  assist  the  ladies  in  getting  out — 
the  small  round  head  of  Master  Thomas  Baraell  was  thrust 
out  of  the  one  pair  window  of  a  house  with  a  red  door,  a 
few  numbers  off. 

"  Aggrawatin1  thing ! "  said  the  vixenish  lady  last  mentioned, 
darting  a  withering  glance  at  the  heavy  gentleman. 

"  My  dear,  it's  not  my  fault,"  said  the  gentleman. 

"Don't  talk  to  me,  you  creetur,  don't,"  retorted  the  lady. 
"The  house  with  the  red  door,  cabmin.  Oh!  If  ever  a 
woman  was  troubled  with  a  ruffinly  creetur,  that  takes  a  pride 
and  a  pleasure  in  disgracing  his  wife  on  every  possible  occasion 
afore  strangers,  I  am  that  woman  ! " 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Raddle,"  said  the 
other  little  woman,  who  was  no  other  than  Mrs.  Cluppins. 

"What  have  I  been  a  doing  of?"  asked  Mr.  Raddle. 

"  Don't  talk  to  me,  don't,  you  brute,  for  fear  I  should  be 
penvoked  to  forgit  my  sect  and  strike  you ! "  said  Mrs. 
Raddle. 

While  this  dialogue  was  going  on,  the  driver  was  most 
ignominiously  leading  the  horse,  by  the  bridle,  up  to  the 


290  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

house  with  the  red  door,  which  Master  Bardell  had  already 
opened.  Here  was  a  mean  and  low  way  of  arriving  at  a 
friend's  house !  No  dashing  up,  with  all  the  fire  and  fury  of 
the  animal ;  no  jumping  down  of  the  driver ;  no  loud  knocking 
at  the  door;  no  opening  of  the  apron  with  a  crash  at  the 
very  last  moment,  for  fear  of  the  ladies  sitting  in  a  draught ; 
and  then  the  man  handing  the  shawls  out,  afterwards,  as  if 
he  were  a  private  coachman !  The  whole  edge  of  the  thing 
had  been  taken  off;  it  was  flatter  than  walking. 

"Well,  Tommy ,"  said  Mrs.  Cluppins,  "How's  your  poor 
dear  mother  ?" 

"Oh,  she's  very  well,"  replied  Master  Bardell.  "She's  in 
the  front  parlour,  all  ready.  I'm  ready  too,  I  am."  Here 
Master  Bardell  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  jumped  off 
and  on  the  bottom  step  of  the  door. 

"Is  anybody  else  a  goin\  Tommy?"  said  Mrs.  Cluppins, 
arranging  her  pelerine. 

"Mrs.  Sanders  is  going,  she  is,"  replied  Tommy,  "I'm 
going  too,  I  am." 

"Drat  the  boy,"  said  little  Mrs.  Cluppins.  "He  thinks 
of  nobody  but  himself.  Here,  Tommy,  dear." 

"Well,"  said  Master  Bardell. 

"Who  else  is  a  goin',  lovey?"  said  Mrs.  Cluppins  in  an 
insinuating  manner. 

"Oh!  Mrs.  Rogers  is  a  goin',"  replied  Master  Bardell, 
opening  his  eyes  very  wide  as  he  delivered  the  intelligence. 

"  What !  The  lady  as  has  taken  the  lodgings ! "  ejaculated 
Mrs.  Cluppins. 

Master  Bardell  put  his  hands  deeper  down  into  his  pockets, 
and  nodded  exactly  thirty-five  times,  to  imply  that  it  was 
the  lady  lodger,  and  no  other. 

"  Bless  us ! "  said  Mrs.  Cluppins.     "  It's  quite  a  party !  " 

"Ah,  if  you  knew  what  was  in  the  cupboard,  you'd  say 
so,"  replied  Master  Bardell. 

"  What  is  there,  Tommy  ? "  said  Mrs.  Cluppins,  coaxingly. 
"  You'll  tell  me,  Tommy,  I  know." 


MASTER  BARBELL  UNCOMMUNICATIVE.   291 

"  No,  I  won't,"  replied  Master  Bardell,  shaking  his  head, 
and  applying  himself  to  the  bottom  step  again. 

"Drat  the  child!"  muttered  Mrs.  Cluppins.  "What  a 
prowokin'  little  wretch  it  is !  Come,  Tommy,  tell  your  dear 
Cluppy." 

*•  Mother  said  I  wasn't  to,"  rejoined  Master  Bardell,  "  I'm 
a  goin'  to  have  some,  I  am."  Cheered  by  this  prospect,  the 
precocious  boy  applied  himself  to  his  infantile  treadmill,  with 
increased  vigour. 

The  above  examination  of  a  child  of  tender  years,  took 
place  while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raddle  and  the  cab-driver  were 
having  an  altercation  concerning  the  fare :  which,  terminating 
at  this  point  in  favour  of  the  cabman,  Mrs.  Raddle  came  up 
tottering. 

"Lauk,  Mary  Ann!  what's  the  matter?"  said  Mrs. 
Cluppins. 

"  It's  put  me  all  over  in  such  a  tremble,  ifctsy,"  replied 
Mrs.  Raddle.  "  Raddle  ain't  like  a  man ;  he  leaves  everythink 
to  me." 

This  was  scarcely  fair  upon  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Raddle, 
who  had  been  thrust  aside  by  his  good  lady  in  the  commence- 
ment of  the  dispute,  and  peremptorily  commanded  to  hold 
his  tongue.  He  had  no  opportunity  of  defending  himself, 
however,  for  Mrs.  Raddle  gave  unequivocal  signs  of  fainting ; 
which,  being  perceived  from  the  parlour  window,  Mrs.  Bardell, 
Mrs.  Sanders,  the  lodger,  and  the  lodger's  servant,  darted 
precipitately  out,  and  conveyed  her  into  the  house :  all 
talking  at  the  same  time,  and  giving  utterance  to  various 
expressions  of  pity  and  condolence,  as  if  she  were  one  of  the 
most  suffering  mortals  on  earth.  Being  conveyed  into  the 
front  parlour,  she  was  there  deposited  on  a  sofa ;  and  the  lady 
from  the  first  floor  running  up  to  the  first  door,  returned 
with  a  bottle  of  sal  volatile,  which,  holding  Mrs.  Raddle 
tight  round  the  neck,  she  applied  in  sail  womanly  kindness 
and  pity  to  her  nose,  until  that  lady  with  many  plunges  and 
struggles  was  fain  to  declare  herself  decidedly  better. 


292  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Ah,  poor  thing  ! r  said  Mrs.  Rogers,  "  I  know  what  her 
feelin's  is,  too  well." 

"  Ah,  poor  thing !  so  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Sanders :  and  then 
all  the  ladies  moaned  in  unison,  and  said  they  knew  what  it 
was,  and  they  pitied  her  from  their  hearts,  they  did.  Even 
the  lodger's  little  servant,  who  was  thirteen  years  old,  and 
three  feet  high,  murmured  her  sympathy. 

"But  what's  been  the  matter?"  said  Mrs.  Bardell. 

"Ah,  what  has  decomposed  you,  ma'am?1"  inquired  Mrs. 
Rogers. 

"  I  have  been  a  good  deal  flurried,"  replied  Mrs.  Raddle, 
in  a  reproachful  manner.  Thereupon  the  ladies  cast  indig- 
nant looks  at  Mr.  Raddle. 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,"  said  that  unhappy  gentleman,  stepping 
forward,  "when  we  alighted  at  this  door,  a  dispute  arose 

with  the  driver  of  the  cabrioily "  A  loud  scream  from 

his  wife,  at  the  mention  of  this  word,  rendered  all  further 
explanation  inaudible. 

"You'd  better  leave  us  to  bring  her  round,  Raddle,"  said 
Mrs.  Cluppins.  "She'll  never  get  better  as  long  as  you're 
here." 

All  the  ladies  concurred  in  this  opinion ;  so  Mr.  Raddle 
was  pushed  out  of  the  room,  and  requested  to  give  himself 
an  airing  in  the  back  yard.  Which  he  did  for  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  when  Mrs.  Bardell  announced  to  him 
with  a  solemn  face  that  he  might  come  in  now,  but  that  he 
must  be  very  careful  how  he  behaved  towards  his  wife.  She 
knew  he  didn't  mean  to  be  unkind;  but  Mary  Ann  was  very 
far  from  strong,  and,  if  he  didn't  take  care,  he  might  lose 
her  when  he  least  expected  it,  which  would  be  a  very  dreadful 
reflection  for  him  afterwards;  and  so  on.  All  this,  Mr. 
Raddle  heard  with  great  submission,  and  presently  returned 
to  the  parlour  in  a  most  lamb-like  manner. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Rogers,  ma'am,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  "you've 
never  been  introduced,  I  declare !  Mr.  Raddle,  ma'am ;  Mrs. 
Cluppins,  ma'am;  Mrs.  Raddle,  ma'am." 


INTRODUCTION  OF  MRS.   ROGERS.          293 

"Which  is  Mrs.  Clapping's  sister,11  suggested  Mrs. 

Sanders. 

"  Oh,  indeed ! "  said  Mrs.  Rogers,  graciously ;  for  she  was 
the  lodger,  and  her  servant  was  in  waiting,  so  she  was  more 
gracious  than  intimate,  in  right  of  her  position.  "Oh, 
indeed ! " 

Mrs.  Raddle  smiled  sweetly,  Mr.  Raddle  bowed,  and  Mrs. 
Cluppins  said  "  she  was  sure  she  was  very  happy  to  have  a 
opportunity  of  being  known  to  a  lady  which  she  had  heerd 
so  much  in  favour  of,  as  Mrs.  Rogers."  A  compliment  which 
the  last-named  lady  acknowledged  with  graceful  condescen- 
sion. 

"Well,  Mr.  Raddle,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell;  "Tm  sure  you 
ought  to  feel  very  much  honoured  at  you  and  Tommy  being 
the  only  gentlemen  to  escort  so  many  ladies  all  the  way  to 
the  Spaniards,  at  Hampstead.  Don't  you  think  he  ought, 
Mrs.  Rogers,  ma'am?" 

"  Oh,  certainly,  ma'am,"  replied  Mrs.  Rogers ;  after  whom 
all  the  other  ladies  responded  "  Oh,  certainly." 

"  Of  course  I  feel  it,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Raddle,  rubbing 
his  hands,  and  evincing  a  slight  tendency  to  brighten  up  a 
little.  "Indeed,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  said,  as  we  was  a 
coming  along  in  the  cabrioily " 

At  the  recapitulation  of  the  word  which  awakened  so 
many  painful  recollections,  Mrs.  Raddle  applied  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes  again,  and  uttered  a  half-suppressed 
scream  ;  so  Mrs.  Bardell  frowned  upon  Mr.  Raddle,  to  intimate 
that  he  had  better  not  say  anything  more,  and  desired  Mrs. 
Rogers's  servant,  with  an  air,  to  "put  the  wine  on." 

This  was  the  signal  for  displaying  the  hidden  treasures  of 
the  closet,  which  comprised  sundry  plates  of  oranges  and 
biscuits,  and  a  bottle  of  old  crusted  port — that  at  one  and 
nine — with  another  of  the  celebrated  East  India  sherry  at 
fourteenpence,  which  were  all  produced  in  honour  of  the  lodger, 
and  afforded  unlimited  satisfaction  to  everybody.  After  great 
consternation  had  been  excited  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Cluppins, 


294  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

by  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  Tommy  to  recount  how  he  had 
been  cross-examined  regarding  the  cupboard  then  in  action, 
(which  was  fortunately  nipped  in  the  bud  by  his  imbibing 
half  a  glass  of  the  old  crusted  "  the  wrong  way,"  arid  thereby 
endangering  his  life  for  some  seconds,)  the  party  walked  forth, 
in  quest  of  a  Hampstead  stage.  This  was  soon  found,  and  in 
a  couple  of  hours  they  all  arrived  safely  in  the  Spaniards  Tea- 
gardens,  where  the  luckless  Mr.  Raddle's  very  first  act  nearly 
occasioned  his  good  lady  a  relapse ;  it  being  neither  more 
nor  less  than  to  order  tea  for  seven,  whereas  (as  the  ladies 
one  and  all  remarked),  what  could  have  been  easier  than 
for  Tommy  to  have  drank  out  of  anybody's  cup — or  every- 
body's, if  that  was  all — when  the  waiter  wasn't  looking :  which 
would  have  saved  one  head  of  tea,  and  the  tea  just  as  good ! 

However,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  the  tea-tray  came, 
with  seven  cups  and  saucers,  and  bread  and  butter  on  the 
same  scale.  Mrs.  Bardell  was  unanimously  voted  into  the 
chair,  and  Mrs.  Rogers  being  stationed  on  her  right  hand, 
and  Mrs.  Raddle  on  her  left,  the  meal  proceeded  with  great 
merriment  and  success. 

"  How  sweet  the  country  is,  to-be-sure ! "  sighed  Mrs. 
Rogers ;  "  I  almost  wish  I  lived  in  it  always.1* 

"  Oh,  you  wouldn't  like  that,  ma'am,"  replied  Mrs.  Bardell, 
rather  hastily ;  for  it  was  not  at  all  advisable,  with  reference 
to  the  lodgings,  to  encourage  such  notions;  "you  wouldn't 
like  it,  ma'am." 

"  Oh !  I  should  think  you  was  a  deal  too  lively  and  sought- 
after,  to  be  content  with  the  country,  maVim,"  said  little 
Mrs.  Cluppins. 

"Perhaps  I  am,  ma'am.  Perhaps  I  am,"  sighed  the  first- 
floor  lodger. 

"For  lone  people  as  have  got  nobody  to  care  for  them, 
or  take  care  of  them,  or  as  have  been  hurt  in  their  mind,  or 
that  kind  of  thing,"  observed  Mr.  Raddle,  plucking  up  a 
little  cheerfulness,  and  looking  round,  "the  country  is  all 
very  well.  The  country  for  a  wounded  spirit,  they  say." 


UNMANLY  CONDUCT  OF  MR.   RADDLE.     295 

Now,  of  all  things  in  the  world  that  the  unfortunate  man 
could  have  said,  any  would  have  been  preferable  to  this.  Of 
course  Mrs.  Bardell  burst  into  tears,  and  requested  to  be  led 
from  the  table  instantly;  upon  which  the  affectionate  child 
began  to  cry  too,  most  dismally. 

"Would  anybody  believe,  ma'am,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Raddle, 
turning  fiercely  to  the  first-floor  lodger,  "that  a  woman 
could  be  married  to  such  a  unmanly  creetur,  which  can  tamper 
with  a  woman's  feelings  as  he  does,  every  hour  in  the  day, 
ma'am  ?  " 

"My  dear,"  remonstrated  Mr.  Raddle,  "I  didn't  mean 
anything,  my  dear." 

"  You  didn't  mean ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Raddle,  with  great 
scorn  and  contempt.  "  Go  away.  I  can't  bear  the  sight  on 
you,  you  brute." 

"  You  must  not  flurry  yourself,  Mary  Ann,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Cluppins.  "  You  really  must  consider  yourself,  my  dear,  which 
you  never  do.  Now  go  away,  Raddle,  there's  a  good  soul, 
or  you'll  only  aggravate  her." 

"You  had  better  take  your  tea  by  yourself,  sir,  indeed," 
said  Mrs.  Rogers,  again  applying  the  smelling-bottle. 

Mrs.  Sanders,  who  according  to  custom  was  very  busy 
with  the  bread  and  butter,  expressed  the  same  opinion,  and 
Mr.  Raddle  quietly  retired. 

After  this,  there  was  a  great  hoisting  up  of  Master  Bardell, 
who  was  rather  a  large  size  for  hugging,  into  his  mother's 
arms :  in  which  operation  he  got  his  boots  in  the  tea-board, 
and  occasioned  some  confusion  among  the  cups  and  saucers. 
But  that  description  of  fainting  fits,  which  is  contagious 
among  ladies,  seldom  lasts  long;  so  when  he  had  been  well 
kissed,  and  a  little  cried  over,  Mrs.  Bardell  recovered,  set 
him  down  again,  wondered  how  she  could  have  been  so 
foolish,  and  poured  out  some  more  tea. 

It  was  at  this  moment,  that  the  sound  of  approaching 
wheels  was  heard,  and  that  the  ladies,  looking  up,  saw  a 
hackney-coach  stop  at  the  garden-gate. 


296  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

"  More  company  ! "  said  Mrs.  Sanders. 

"  It's  a  gentleman,11  said  Mrs.  Raddle. 

"  Well,  if  it  ain't  Mr.  Jackson,  the  young  man  from  Dodson 
and  Fogg's ! "  cried  Mrs.  Bardell.  "  Why,  gracious !  Surely 
Mr.  Pickwick  can't  have  paid  the  damages." 

"  Or  hoffered  marriage ! "  said  Mrs.  Cluppins. 

"Dear  me,  how  slow  the  gentleman  is,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Rogers:  "Why  doesn't  he  make  haste?" 

As  the  lady  spoke  these  words,  Mr.  Jackson  turned  from 
the  coach  where  he  had  been  addressing  some  observations 
to  a  shabby  man  in  black  leggings,  who  had  just  emerged 
from  the  vehicle  with  a  thick  ash  stick  in  his  hand,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  place  where  the  ladies  were  seated; 
winding  his  hair  round  the  brim  of  his  hat  as  he  came 
along. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?  Has  anything  taken  place, 
Mr.  Jackson?"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  eagerly. 

"Nothing  whatever,  ma'am,"  replied  Mr.  Jackson.  "Ho\v 
de  do,  ladies?  I  have  to  ask  pardon,  ladies,  for  intruding — • 
but  the  law,  ladies — the  law."  With  this  apology  Mr.  Jack- 
son smiled,  made  a  comprehensive  bow,  and  gave  his  hair 
another  wind.  Mrs.  Rogers  whispered  Mrs.  Raddle  that  he 
was  really  a  elegant  young  man. 

"I  called  in  Goswell  Street,"  resumed  Jackson,  "and 
hearing  that  you  were  here,  from  the  slavey,  took  a  coach 
and  came  on.  Our  people  want  you  down  in  the  city 
directly,  Mrs.  Bardell." 

"Lor!"  ejaculated  that  lady,  starting  at  the  sudden 
nature  of  the  communication. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jackson,  biting  his  lip.  "  It's  very  important 
and  pressing  business,  which  can't  be  postponed  on  any  account. 
Indeed,  Dodson  expressly  said  so  to  me,  and  so  did  Fogg. 
I've  kept  the  coach  on  purpose  for  you  to  go  back  in." 

"  How  very  strange ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bardell. 

The  ladies  agreed  that  it  was  very  strange,  but  were  unani- 
mously of  opinion  that  it  must  be  very  important,  or  Dodson 


SPECIAL  MESSENGER  FOR  MRS.  BARDELK    297 

and  Fogg  would  never  have  sent ;  and  further,  that  the 
business  being  urgent,  she  ought  to  repair  to  Dodson  and 
Fogg's  without  any  delay. 

There  was  a  certain  degree  of  pride  and  importance  about 
being  wanted  by  one's  lawyers  in  such  a  monstrous  hurry, 
that  was  by  no  means  displeasing  to  Mrs.  Bardell,  especially 
as  it  might  be  reasonably  supposed  to  enhance  her  conse- 
quence in  the  eyes  of  the  first-floor  lodger.  She  simpered  a 
little,  affected  extreme  vexation  and  hesitation,  and  at  last 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  she  supposed  she  must  go, 

"But  won't  you  refresh  yourself  after  your  walk,  Mr. 
Jackson  ? "  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  persuasively. 

"Why,  really  there  ain't  much  time  to  lose,"  replied 
Jackson ;  "  and  I've  got  a  friend  here,"  he  continued,  looking 
towards  the  man  with  the  ash  stick. 

"  Oh,  ask  your  friend  to  come  here,  sir,1"  said  Mrs.  Bardell. 
"Pray  ask  your  friend  here,  sir." 

"Why,  thankee,  I'd  rather  not,"  said  Mr.  Jackson,  with 
some  embarrassment  of  manner.  "He's  not  much  used  to 
ladies'  society,  and  it  makes  him  bashful.  If  you'll  order 
the  waiter  to  deliver  him  anything  short,  he  won't  drink  it 
off  at  once,  won't  he ! — only  try  him ! "  Mr.  Jackson's 
fingers  wandered  playfully  round  his  nose,  at  this  portion 
of  his  discourse,  to  warn  his  hearers  that  he  was  speaking 
ironically. 

The  waiter  was  at  once  despatched  to  the  bashful  gentle- 
man, and  the  bashful  gentleman  took  something ;  Mr.  Jackson 
also  took  something,  and  the  ladies  took  something,  for 
hospitality's  sake.  Mr.  Jackson  then  said  he  was  afraid  it 
was  time  to  go ;  upon  which,  Mrs.  Sanders,  Mrs.  Cluppins, 
and  Tommy  (who  it  was  arranged  should  accompany  Mrs. 
Bardell :  leaving  the  others  to  Mr.  Raddle's  protection),  got 
into  the  coach. 

"  Isaac,"  said  Jackson,  as  Mrs.  Bardell  prepared  to  get  in : 
looking  up  at  the  man  with  the  ash  stick,  who  was  seated 
on  the  box,  smoking  a  cigar. 


298  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Well  ? " 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Bardell." 

"Oh,  I  know'd  that,  long  ago,11  said  the  man. 

Mrs.  Bardell  got  in,  Mr.  Jackson  got  in  after  her,  and 
away  they  drove.  Mrs.  Bardell  could  not  help  ruminating 
on  what  Mr.  Jackson's  friend  had  said.  Shrewd  creatures, 
those  lawyers.  Lord  bless  us,  how  they  find  people  out ! 

"  Sad  thing  about  these  costs  of  our  people's,  ain't  it  ?  "  said 
Jackson,  when  Mrs.  Cluppins  and  Mrs.  Sanders  had  fallen 
asleep ;  "  your  bill  of  costs,  I  mean." 

"  I'm  very  sorry  they  can't  get  them,"  replied  Mrs.  Bardell. 
"But  if  you  law-gentlemen  do  these  things  on  speculation, 
why  you  must  get  a  loss  now  and  then,  you  know." 

"  You  gave  them  a  cognovit  for  the  amount  of  your  costs, 
after  the  trial,  I'm  told?"  said  Jackson. 

"  Yes.     Just  as  a  matter  of  form,"  replied  Mrs.  Bardell. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Jackson,  drily.  "Quite  a  matter  of 
form.  Quite." 

On  they  drove,  and  Mrs.  Bardell  fell  asleep.  She  was 
awakened,  after  some  time,  by  the  stopping  of  the  coach. 

"  Bless  us ! "  said  the  lady.  "  Are  we  at  Freeman's 
Court?" 

" We're  not  going  quite  so  far,"  replied  Jackson.  "Have 
the  goodness  to  step  out" 

Mrs.  Bardell,  not  yet  thoroughly  awake,  complied.  It 
was  a  curious  place :  a  large  wall,  with  a  gate  in  the  middle, 
and  a  gas-light  burning  inside. 

"Now,  ladies,"  cried  the  man  with  the  ash  stick,  looking 
into  the  coach,  and  shaking  Mrs.  Sanders  to  wake  her, 
"  Come ! "  Rousing  her  friend,  Mrs.  Sanders  alighted.  Mrs. 
Bardell,  leaning  on  Jackson's  arm,  and  leading  Tommy  by 
the  hand,  had  already  entered  the  porch.  They  followed. 

The  room  they  turned  into,  was  even  more  odd-looking 
than  the  porch.  Such  a  number  of  men  standing  about! 
And  they  stared  so ! 

"  What  place  is  this  ? "  inquired  Mrs.  Bardell,  pausing. 


MRS.   BARBELL  AT  THE  FLEET  299 

"  Only  one  of  our  public  offices,"  replied  Jackson,  hurrying 
her  through  a  door,  and  looking  round  to  see  that  the  other 
women  were  following.  "  Look  sharp,  Isaac  ! " 

"  Safe  and  sound,"  replied  the  man  with  the  ash  stick. 
The  door  swung  heavily  after  them,  and  they  descended  a 
small  flight  of  steps. 

"  Here  we  are,  at  last.  All  right  and  tight,  Mrs.  BardellT 
said  Jackson,  looking  exultingly  round. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  with  a  palpita- 
ting heart, 

"Just  this,"'  replied  Jackson,  drawing  her  a  little  on  one 
side ;  "  don't  be  frightened,  Mrs.  Bardell.  There  never  was 
a  more  delicate  man  than  Dodson,  ma'am,  or  a  more  humane 
man  than  Fogg.  It  was  their  duty,  in  the  way  of  business, 
to  take  you  in  execution  for  them  costs;  but  they  were 
anxious  to  spare  your  feelings  as  much  as  they  could.  What 
a  comfort  it  must  be,  to  you,  to  think  how  it's  been  done ! 
This  is  the  Fleet,  ma'am.  Wish  you  good  night,  Mrs.  Bardell. 
Good  night,  Tommy ! " 

As  Jackson  hurried  away  in  company  with  the  man  with 
the  ash  stick,  another  man  with  a  key  in  his  hand,  who  had 
been  looking  on,  led  the  bewildered  female  to  a  second  short 
flight  of  steps  leading  to  a  doorway.  Mrs.  Bardell  screamed 
violently ;  Tommy  roared ;  Mrs.  Cluppins  shrunk  within 
herself;  and  Mrs.  Sanders  made  off.  without  more  ado.  For, 
there,  stood  the  injured  Mr.  Pickwick,  taking  his  nightly 
allowance  of  air;  and  beside  him  leant  Samuel  Weller,  who, 
seeing  Mrs.  Bardell,  took  his  hat  off  with  mock  reverence, 
while  his  master  turned  indignantly  on  his  heel. 

"  Don't  bother  the  woman,"  said  the  turnkey  to  Weller : 
"  she's  just  come  in." 

"  A  prisoner  1 "  said  Sam,  quickly  replacing  his  hat.  "  Who's 
the  plaintives?  What  for?  Speak  up,  old  feller." 

"Dodson  and  Fogg,"  replied  the  man;  "execution  on 
cognovit  for  costs." 

"  Here  Job,  Job ! "  shouted  Sam,  dashing  into  the  passage. 


300  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Run  to  Mr.  Perker's,  Job.  /  want  him  directly.  I  see 
some  good  in  this.  Here1s  a  game.  Hooray !  were^s  the 
govtoor  ?  " 

But  there  was  no  reply  to  these  inquiries,  for  Job  had 
started  furiously  off,  the  instant  he  received  his  commission, 
and  Mrs.  Bardell  had  fainted  in  real  downright  earnest. 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 

IS  CHIEFLY  DEVOTED  TO  MATTERS  OF  BUSINESS,  AND  THE  TEM- 
PORAL ADVANTAGE  OF  DODSON  AND  FOGG.  MR.  WINKLE 
RE-APPEARS  UNDER  EXTRAORDINARY  CIRCUMSTANCES.  MR. 
PICKWICK'S  BENEVOLENCE  PROVES  STRONGER  THAN  HIS 
OBSTINACY. 

JOB  TROTTER,  abating  nothing  of  his  speed,  ran  up  Holborn ; 
sometimes  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  sometimes  on  the 
pavement,  sometimes  in  the  gutter,  as  the  chances  of  getting 
along,  varied  with  the  press  of  men,  women,  children,  and 
coaches,  in  each  division  of  the  thoroughfare;  regardless  of 
all  obstacles,  he  stopped  not  for  an  instant  until  he  reached 
the  gate  of  Gray's  Inn.  Notwithstanding  all  the  expedition 
he  had  used,  however,  the  gate  had  been  closed  a  good 
half  hour  when  he  reached  it,  and  by  the  time  he  had 
discovered  Mr.  Perker's  laundress,  who  lived  with  a  married 
daughter,  who  had  bestowed  her  hand  upon  a  non-resident 
waiter,  who  occupied  the  one-pair  of  some  number  in  some 
street  closely  adjoining  to  some  brewery  somewhere  behind 
Gray's  Inn  Lane,  it  was  within  fifteen  minutes  of  closing 
the  prison  for  the  night.  Mr.  Lowten  had  still  to  be  ferreted 
out  from  the  back  parlour  of  the  Magpie  and  Stump;  and 
Job  had  scarcely  accomplished  this  object,  and  communicated 
Sam  Weller's  message,  when  the  clock  struck  ten. 

"  There,11  said  Lowten,  "itfs  too  late  now.     You  can't  get 
in  to-night ;  "  youVe  got  the  key  of  the  street,  my  friend." 


802  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Never  mind  me,1'  replied  Job.  "I  can  sleep  anywhere. 
But  won't  it  be  better  to  see  Mr.  Perker  to-night,  so  that 
we  may  be  there,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning?" 

'*  Why,"  responded  Lowten,  after  a  little  consideration.  "  if 
it  was  in  anybody  else's  case,  Perker  wouldn't  be  best  pleased 
at  my  going  up  to  his  house;  but  as  it's  Mr.  Pickwick's, 
I  think  I  may  venture  to  take  a  cab  and  charge  it  to  the 
office."  Deciding  on  this  line  of  conduct,  Mr.  Lowten  took 
up  his  hat,  and  begging  the  assembled  company  to  appoint  a 
deputy  chairman  during  his  temporary  absence,  led  the  way 
to  the  nearest  coach-stand.  Summoning  the  cab  of  most 
promising  appearance,  he  directed  the  driver  to  repair  to 
Montague  Place,  Russell  Square. 

Mr.  Perker  had  had  a  dinner  party  that  day,  as  was 
testified  by  the  appearance  of  lights  in  the  drawing-room 
windows,  the  sound  of  an  improved  grand  piano,  and  an 
improvable  cabinet  voice  issuing  therefrom,  and  a  rather 
overpowering  smell  of  meat  which  pervaded  the  steps  and  entry. 
In  fact  a  couple  of  very  good  country  agencies  happening  to 
come  up  to  town,  at  the  same  time,  an  agreeable  little  party 
had  been  got  together  to  meet  them :  comprising  Mr.  Snicks 
the  Life  Office  Secretary,  Mr.  Prosee  the  eminent  counsel, 
three  solicitors,  one  commissioner  of  bankrupts,  a  special 
pleader  from  the  Temple,  a  small-eyed  peremptory  young 
gentleman,  his  pupil,  who  had  written  a  lively  book  about 
the  law  of  demises,  with  a  vast  quantity  of  marginal  notes 
and  references;  and  several  other  eminent  and  distinguished 
personages.  From  this  society,  little  Mr.  Perker  detached 
himself,  on  his  clerk  being  announced  in  a  whisper;  and 
repairing  to  the  dining-room,  there  found  Mr.  Lowten  and 
Job  Trotter  looking  very  dim  and  shadowy  by  the  light  of 
a  kitchen  candle,  which  the  gentleman  who  condescended  to 
appear  in  plush  shorts  and  cottons  for  a  quarterly  stipend, 
had,  with  a  becoming  contempt  for  the  clerk  and  all  things 
appertaining  to  "  the  office,"  placed  upon  the  table. 

"Now,  Lowten,"  said  little  Mr.  Perker,  shutting  the  door. 


MR.   FERRER'S  PRIVATE  RESIDENCE.       303 

"  what's  the  matter  ?  No  important  letter  come  in  a  parcel, 
is  there?" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Lowten.  "  This  is  a  messenger  from  Mr. 
Pickwick,  sir." 

"  From  Pickwick,  eh  ? "  said  the  little  man,  turning  quickly 
to  Job.  "  Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"Dodson  and  Fogg  have  taken  Mrs.  Bardell  in  execution 
for  her  costs,  sir,"  said  Job. 

"  No ! "  exclaimed  Perker,  putting  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  reclining  against  the  sideboard. 

"  Yes,"  said  Job.  "  It  seems  they  got  a  cognovit  out  of  her, 
for  the  amount  of  'em,  directly  after  the  trial." 

"By  Jove!"  said  Perker,  taking  both  hands  out  of  his 
pockets,  and  striking  the  knuckles  of  his  right  against  the 
palm  of  his  left,  emphatically,  "  those  are  the  cleverest  scamps 
I  ever  had  anything  to  do  with ! " 

"The  sharpest  practitioners  /  ever  knew,  sir,"  observed 
Lowten. 

"  Sharp  ! "  echoed  Perker.  "  There's  no  knowing  where  to 
have  them." 

"Very  true,  sir,  there  is  not,"  replied  Lowten;  and  then, 
both  master  and  man  pondered  for  a  few  seconds,  with 
animated  countenances,  as  if  they  were  reflecting  upon  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  ingenious  discoveries  that  the 
intellect  of  man  had  ever  made.  When  they  had  in  some 
measure  recovered  from  their  trance  of  admiration,  Job 
Trotter  discharged  himself  of  the  rest  of  his  commission. 
Perker  nodded  his  head  thoughtfully,  and  pulled  out  his 
watch. 

"At  ten  precisely,  I  will  be  there,"  said  the  little  man. 
"  Sam  is  quite  right.  Tell  him  so.  Will  you  take  a  glass 
of  wine,  Lowten  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,  sir." 

"You  mean  yes,  I  think,"  said  the  little  man,  turning  to 
the  sideboard  for  a  decanter  and  glasses. 

As  Lowten  did  mean  yes,  he  said  no  more  on  the  subject, 


304  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

but  inquired  of  Job,  in  an  audible  whisper,  whether  the 
portrait  of  Perker,  which  hung  opposite  the  fire-place,  wasn^t 
a  wonderful  likeness,  to  which,  Job  of  course  replied  that  it 
was.  The  wine  being  by  this  time  poured  out,  Lowten 
drank  to  Mrs.  Perker  and  the  children,  and  Job  to  Perker. 
The  gentleman  in  the  plush  shorts  and  cottons  considering 
it  no  part  of  his  duty  to  show  the  people  from  the  office 
out,  consistently  declined  to  answer  the  bell,  and  they  showed 
themselves  out.  The  attorney  betook  himself  to  his  drawing- 
room,  the  clerk  to  the  Magpie  and  Stump,  and  Job  to 
Covent  Garden  Market  to  spend  the  night  in  a  vegetable 
basket. 

Punctually  at  the  appointed  hour  next  morning,  the 
good-humoured  little  attorney  tapped  at  Mr.  Pick- 
wick"^ door,  which  was  opened  with  great  alacrity  by  Sam 
Weller. 

"  Mr.  Perker,  sir,11  said  Sam,  announcing  the  visitor  to  Mr. 
Pickwick,  who  was  sitting  at  the  window  in  a  thoughtful 
attitude.  "Wery  glad  youVe  looked  in  accidentally,  sir.  I 
rather  think  the  goVnor  wants  to  have  a  word  and  a  half 
with  you,  sir.11 

Perker  bestowed  a  look  of  intelligence  on  Sam,  intimating 
that  he  understood  he  was  not  to  say  he  had  been  sent 
for:  and  beckoning  him  to  approach,  whispered  briefly  in 
his  ear. 

"You  don't  mean  that  ^re,  sir?11  said  Sam,  starting  back 
in  excessive  surprise. 

Perker  nodded  and  smiled. 

Mr.  Samuel  Weller  looked  at  the  little  lawyer,  then  at  Mr. 
Pickwick,  then  at  the  ceiling,  then  at  Perker  again ;  grinned, 
laughed  outright,  and  finally,  catching  up  his  hat  from  the 
carpet,  without  further  explanation,  disappeared. 

"What  does  this  mean?11  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking 
at  Perker  with  astonishment.  "What  has  put  Sam  into 
this  most  extraordinary  state?11 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing,11  replied  Perker.     "  Come,  my  dear 


THE   OLD  STORY.  305 

sir,  draw  up  your  chair  to  the  table.  I  have  a  good  deal  to 
say  to  you." 

"  What  papers  are  those  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  the 
little  man  deposited  on  the  table  a  small  bundle  of  documents 
tied  with  red  tape. 

"The  papers  in  Bardell  and  Pickwick,"  replied  Perker, 
undoing  the  knot  with  his  teeth. 

Mr.  Pickwick  grated  the  legs  of  his  chair  against  the 
ground ;  and  throwing  himself  into  it,  folded  his  hands  and 
looked  sternly — if  Mr.  Pickwick  ever  could  look  sternly — at 
his  legal  friend. 

"You  don't  like  to  hear  the  name  of  the  cause?"  said 
the  little  man,  still  busying  himself  with  the  knot. 

"No,  I  do  not  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Sorry  for  that,"  resumed  Perker,  "because  it  will  form 
the  subject  of  our  conversation." 

"  I  would  rather  that  the  subject  should  be  never  mentioned 
between  us,  Perker,"  interposed  Mr.  Pickwick,  hastily. 

"Pooh,  pooh,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  little  man,  untying 
the  bundle,  and  glancing  eagerly  at  Mr.  Pickwick  out  of  the 
corners  of  his  eyes.  "It  must  be  mentioned.  I  have  come 
here  on  purpose.  Now,  are  you  ready  to  hear  what  I  have 
to  say,  my  dear  sir?  No  hurry;  if  you  are  not,  I  can  wait. 
I  have  this  morning's  paper  here.  Your  time  shall  be 
mine.  There ! "  Hereupon,  the  little  man  threw  one  leg 
over  the  other,  and  made  a  show  of  beginning  to  read  with 
great  composure  and  application. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a  sigh,  but  softening 
into  a  smile  at  the  same  time.  "  Say  what  you  have  to  say ; 
it's  the  old  story,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  With  a  difference,  my  dear  sir ;  with  a  difference," 
rejoined  Perker,  deliberately  folding  up  the  paper  and  putting 
it  into  his  pocket  again.  "  Mrs.  Bardell,  the  plaintiff  in  the 
action,  is  within  these  walls,  sir." 

"  I  know  it,"  was  Mr.  Pickwick's  reply. 

"Very  good,"  retorted  Perker.     "And  you  know  how  she 

VOL.   II.  X 


306  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

comes  here,  I  suppose;  I  mean  on  what  grounds,  and  at 
whose  suit?11 

"  Yes ;  at  least  I  have  heard  Sara's  account  of  the  matter," 
said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  affected  carelessness. 

"Sam's  account  of  the  matter,"  replied  Perker,  "is,  I  will 
venture  to  say,  a  perfectly  correct  one.  Well  now,  my  dear 
sir,  the  first  question  I  have  to  ask,  is,  whether  this  woman 
is  to  remain  here?" 

"  To  remain  here ! "  echoed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"To  remain  here,  my  dear  sir,"  rejoined  Perker,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair  and  looking  steadily  at  his  client. 

"  How  can  you  ask  me  ? "  said  that  gentleman.  "  It  rests 
with  Dodson  and  Fogg;  you  know  that,  very  well." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind,"  retorted  Perker,  firmly.  "  It 
does  not  rest  with  Dodson  and  Fogg;  you  know  the  men, 
my  dear  sir,  as  well  as  I  do.  It  rests  solely,  wholly,  and 
entirely  with  you." 

"  With  me ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Pickwick,  rising  nervously 
from  his  chair,  and  reseating  himself  directly  afterwards. 

The  little  man  gave  a  double  knock  on  the  lid  of  his 
snuff-box,  opened  it,  took  a  great  pinch,  shut  it  up  again, 
and  repeated  the  words,  "With  you." 

"  I  say,  my  dear  sir,"  resumed  the  little  man,  who  seemed 
to  gather  confidence  from  the  snuff;  "  I  say,  that  her  speedy 
liberation  or  perpetual  imprisonment  rests  with  you,  and 
with  you  alone.  Hear  me  out,  my  dear  sir,  if  you  please, 
and  do  not  be  so  very  energetic,  for  it  will  only  put  you  into 
a  perspiration  and  do  no  good  whatever.  I  say,"  continued 
Perker,  checking  off  each  position  on  a  different  finger,  as 
he  laid  it  down ;  "  I  say  that  nobody  but  you  can  rescue 
her  from  this  den  of  wretchedness ;  and  that  you  can  only 
do  that,  by  paying  the  costs  of  this  suit — both  of  plaintiff 
and  defendant — into  the  hands  of  these  Freeman's  Court 
sharks.  Now  pray  be  quiet,  my  dear  sir." 

Mr.  Pickwick,  whose  face  had  been  undergoing  most  sur- 
prising changes  during  this  speech,  and  who  was  evidently  on 


A  WAY  OUT.  307 

the  verge  of  a  strong  burst  of  indignation,  calmed  his  wrath 
as  well  as  he  could.  Perker,  strengthening  his  argumentative 
powers  with  another  pinch  of  snuff,  proceeded. 

"  I  have  seen  the  woman,  this  morning.  By  paying  the 
costs,  you  can  obtain  a  full  release  and  discharge  from  the 
damages ;  and  further — this  I  know  is  a  far  greater  object  of 
consideration  with  you,  my  dear  sir — a  voluntary  statement, 
under  her  hand,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  to  me,  that  this 
business  was,  from  the  very  first,  fomented,  and  encouraged, 
and  brought  about,  by  these  men,  Dodson  and  Fogg;  that 
she  deeply  regrets  ever  having  been  the  instrument  of 
annoyance  or  injury  to  you;  and  that  she  entreats  me  to 
intercede  with  you,  and  implore  your  pardon." 

"  If  I  pay  her  costs  for  her,1'  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  indignantly. 
"  A  valuable  document,  indeed  ! " 

"  No  '  if  in  the  case,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Perker,  triumphantly. 
"There  is  the  very  letter  I  speak  of.  Brought  to  my  office 
by  another  woman  at  nine  o'clock  this  morning,  before  I 
had  set  foot  in  this  place,  or  held  any  communication  with 
Mrs.  Bardell,  upon  my  honour."  Selecting  the  letter  from 
the  bundle,  the  little  lawyer  laid  it  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  elbow, 
and  took  snuff  for  two  consecutive  minutes,  without  winking. 

"Is  this  all  you  have  to  say  to  me?"  inquired  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, mildly. 

"  Not  quite,"  replied  Perker.  "  I  cannot  undertake  to  say, 
at  this  moment,  whether  the  wording  of  the  cognovit,  the 
nature  of  the  ostensible  consideration,  and  the  proof  we  can 
get  together  about  the  whole  conduct  of  the  suit,  will  be 
sufficient  to  justify  an  indictment  for  conspiracy.  I  fear  not, 
my  dear  sir;  they  are  too  clever  for  that,  I  doubt.  I  do 
mean  to  say,  however,  that  the  whole  facts,  taken  together, 
will  be  sufficient  to  justify  you,  in  the  minds  of  all  reasonable 
men.  And  now,  my  dear  sir,  I  put  it  to  you.  This  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  or  whatever  it  may  be — take  it 
in  round  numbers — is  nothing  to  you.  A  jury  has  decided 
against  you;  well,  their 'verdict  is  wrong,  but  still  they 


308  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

decided  as  they  thought  right,  and  it  w  against  you.  You 
have  now  an  opportunity,  on  easy  terms,  of  placing  yourself 
in  a  much  higher  position  than  you  ever  could,  by  remaining 
here;  which  would  only  be  imputed,  by  people  who  didn't 
know  you,  to  sheer  dogged,  wrongheaded,  brutal  obstinacy : 
nothing  else,  my  dear  sir,  believe  me.  Can  you  hesitate  to 
avail  yourself  of  it,  when  it  restores  you  to  your  friends, 
your  old  pursuits,  your  health  and  amusements;  when  it 
liberates  your  faithful  and  attached  servant,  whom  you  other- 
wise doom  to  imprisonment  for  the  whole  of  your  life ;  and 
above  all,  when  it  enables  you  to  take  the  very  magnanimous 
revenge — which  I  know,  my  dear  sir,  is  one  after  your  own 
heart — of  releasing  this  woman  from  a  scene  of  misery  and 
debauchery,  to  which  no  man  should  ever  be  consigned,  if  I 
had  my  will,  but  the  infliction  of  which  on  any  woman,  is 
even  more  frightful  and  barbarous.  Now  I  ask  you,  my 
dear  sir,  not  only  as  your  legal  adviser,  but  as  your  very 
true  friend,  will  you  let  slip  the  occasion  of  attaining  all 
these  objects,  and  doing  all  this  good,  for  the  paltry  con- 
sideration of  a  few  pounds  finding  their  way  into  the  pockets 
of  a  couple  of  rascals,  to  whom  it  makes  no  manner  of 
difference,  except  that  the  more  they  gain,  the  more  they'll 
seek,  and  so  the  sooner  be  led  into  some  piece  of  knavery 
that  must  end  in  a  crash?  I  have  put  these  considerations 
to  you,  my  dear  sir,  very  feebly  and  imperfectly,  but  I  ask 
you  to  think  of  them.  Turn  them  over  in  your  mind  as  long 
as  you  please.  I  wait  here  most  patiently  for  your  answer."" 

Before  Mr.  Pickwick  could  reply ;  before  Mr.  Perker  had 
taken  one  twentieth  part  of  the  snuff  with  which  so  unusually 
long  an  address  imperatively  required  to  be  followed  up ; 
there  was  a  low  murmuring  of  voices  outside,  and  then  a 
hesitating  knock  at  the  door. 

"Dear,  dear,""  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  been 
evidently  roused  by  his  friend's  appeal ;  "  what  an  annoyance 
that  door  is!  Who  is  that?" 

"Me,  sir,11  replied  Sam  Weller,  putting  in  his  head. 


A  PLEASANT  SURPRISE.  509 

"  I  can't  speak  to  you  just  now,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  I  am  engaged,  at  this  moment,  Sam.1' 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller.  "But  here's 
a  lady  here,  sir,  as  says  she's  somethin'  wery  partickler  to 
disclose." 

"I  can't  see  any  lady,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  whose  mind 
was  filled  with  visions  of  Mrs.  Bardell. 

"I  vouldn't  make  too  sure  o'  that,  sir,"  urged  Mr.  Weller, 
shaking  his  head.  "If  you  know'd  who  was  near,  sir,  I 
rayther  think  you'd  change  your  note.  As  the  hawk  remarked 
to  himself  with  a  cheerful  laugh,  ven  he  heerd  the  robin 
redbreast  a  singin'  round  the  corner." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Will  you  see  her,  sir?"  asked  Mr.  Weller,  holding  the 
door  in  his  hand  as  if  he  had  some  curious  live  animal  on 
the  other  side. 

"  I  suppose  I  must,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  at  Perker. 

"Well  then,  all  in  to  begin!"  cried  Sam.  "Sound  the 
gong,  draw  up  the  curtain,  and  enter  the  two  con-spiraytors." 

As  Sam  Weller  spoke,  he  threw  the  door  open,  and  there 
rushed  tumultuously  into  the  room,  Mr.  Nathaniel  Winkle: 
leading  after  him  by  the  hand,  the  identical  young  lady  who 
at  Dingley  Dell  had  worn  the  boots  with  the  fur  round  the 
tops,  and  who,  now  a  very  pleasing  compound  of  blushes 
and  confusion  and  lilac  silk  and  a  smart  bonnet  and  a  rich 
lace  veil,  looked  prettier  than  ever. 

"Miss  Arabella  Allen!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  rising 
from  his  chair. 

"No,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  dropping  on  his  knees,  "Mrs. 
Winkle.  Pardon,  my  dear  friend,  pardon  ?  " 

Mr.  Pickwick  could  scarcely  believe  the  evidence  of  his  senses, 
and  perhaps  would  not  have  done  so,  but  for  the  corroborative 
testimony  afforded  by  the  smiling  countenance  of  Perker,  and 
the  bodily  presence,  in  the  background,  of  Sam  and  the  pretty 
housemaid;  who  appeared  to  contemplate  the  proceedings 
with  the  liveliest  satisfaction. 


310  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Pickwick ! ""  said  Arabella,  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  alarmed  at  the  silence.  "Can  you  forgive  my  im- 
prudence ?  " 

Mr.  Pickwick  returned  no  verbal  response  to  this  appeal; 
but  he  took  off  his  spectacles  in  great  haste,  and  seizing  both 
the  young  lady's  hands  in  his,  kissed  her  a  great  number  of 
times — perhaps  a  greater  number  than  was  absolutely  necessary 
— and  then,  still  retaining  one  of  her  hands,  told  Mr.  Winkle 
he  was  an  audacious  young  dog,  and  bade  him  get  up.  This, 
Mr.  Winkle,  who  had  been  for  some  seconds  scratching  his 
nose  with  the  brim  of  his  hat,  in  a  penitent  manner,  did; 
whereupon  Mr.  Pickwick  slapped  him  on  the  back  several 
times,  and  then  shook  hands  heartily  with  Perker,  who,  not 
to  be  behind-hand  in  the  compliments  of  the  occasion,  saluted 
both  the  bride  and  the  pretty  housemaid  with  right  good  will, 
and,  having  wrung  Mr.  Winkle's  hand  most  cordially,  wound 
up  his  demonstrations  of  joy  by  taking  snuff'  enough  to  set 
any  half  dozen  men  with  ordinarily  constructed  noses,  a 
sneezing  for  life. 

"Why,  my  dear  girl,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "how  has  all 
this  come  about  ?  Come !  Sit  down,  and  let  me  hear  it  all. 
How  well  she  looks,  doesn't  she,  Perker  ?  "  added  Mr.  Pickwick, 
surveying  Arabella's  face  with  a  look  of  as  much  pride  and 
exultation,  as  if  she  had  been  his  daughter. 

"  Delightful,  my  dear  sir,11  replied  the  little  man.  "  If  I 
were  not  a  married  man  myself,  I  should  be  disposed  to  envy 
you,  you  dog.11  Thus  expressing  himself,  the  little  lawyer 
gave  Mr.  Winkle  a  poke  in  the  chest,  which  that  gentleman 
reciprocated;  after  which  they  both  laughed  very  loudly,  but 
not  so  loudly  as  Mr.  Samuel  Weller.  Who  had  just  relieved 
his  feelings  by  kissing  the  pretty  housemaid,  under  cover  of 
the  cupboard-door. 

"I  can  never  be  grateful  enough  to  you,  Sam,  I  am  sure,11 
said  Arabella,  with  the  sweetest  smile  imaginable.  "I  shall 
not  forget  your  exertions  in  the  garden  at  Clifton.11 

"Don't  say  nothin1  wotever  about  it,  ma^,11  replied  Sam. 


EXPLANATIONS.  311 

"I  only  assisted   natur',  ma'm ;   as   the  doctor  said   to   the 
boy's  mother,  arter  he'd  bled  him  to  death." 

"Mary,  my  dear,  sit  down,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  cutting 
short  these  compliments.  "Now  then;  how  long  have  you 
been  married,  eh  ?  " 

Arabella  looked  bashfully  at  her  lord  and  master,  who 
replied,  "  Only  three  days.1" 

"Only  three  days,  eh?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Why,  what 
have  you  been  doing  these  three  months  ? " 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure ! "  interposed  Perker ;  "  come !  Account 
for  this  idleness.  You  see  Pickwick's  only  astonishment  is, 
that  it  wasn't  all  over,  months  ago." 

"Why,  the  fact  is,"  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  looking  at  his 
blushing  young  wife,  "  that  I  could  not  persuade  Bella  to  run 
away,  for  a  long  time.  And  when  I  had  persuaded  her,  it 
was  a  long  time  more,  before  we  could  find  an  opportunity. 
Mary  had  to  give  a  month's  warning,  too,  before  she  could 
leave  her  place  next  door,  and  we  couldn't  possibly  have  done 
it  without  her  assistance." 

"Upon  my  word,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  by  this 
time  had  resumed  his  spectacles,  and  was  looking  from 
Arabella  to  Winkle,  and  from  Winkle  to  Arabella,  with  as 
much  delight  depicted  in  his  countenance  as  warm-heartedness 
and  kindly  feeling  can  communicate  to  the  human  face: 
"upon  my  word!  you  seem  to  have  been  very  systematic  in 
your  proceedings.  And  is  your  brother  acquainted  with  all 
this,  my  dear?" 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  replied  Arabella,  changing  colour.  "Dear 
Mr.  Pickwick,  he  must  only  know  it  from  you — from  your 
lips  alone.  He  is  so  violent,  so  prejudiced,  and  has  been  so 
— so  anxious  in  behalf  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  added 
Arabella,  looking  down,  *l  that  I  fear  the  consequences  dread- 
fully." 

"Ah,  to  be  sure,"  said  Perker  gravely.  "You  must  take 
this  matter  in  hand  for  them,  my  dear  sir.  These  young 
men  will  respect  you,  when  they  would  listen  to  nobody  else. 


312  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

You  must  prevent  mischief,  my  dear  sir.  Hot  blood,  hot 
blood.11  And  the  little  man  took  a  warning  pinch,  and  shook 
his  head  doubtfully. 

"You  forget,  my  love,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  gently,  "you 
forget  that  I  am  a  prisoner."" 

"No,  indeed  I  do  not,  my  dear  sir,11  replied  Arabella. 
"I  never  have  forgotten  it.  I  have  never  ceased  to  think 
how  great  your  sufferings  must  have  been  in  this  shocking 
place.  But  I  hoped  that  what  no  consideration  for  yourself 
would  induce  you  to  do,  a  regard  to  our  happiness,  might. 
If  my  brother  hears  of  this,  first,  from  you,  I  feel  certain 
we  shall  be  reconciled.  He  is  my  only  relation  in  the  world, 
Mr.  Pickwick,  and  unless  you  plead  for  me,  I  fear  I  have 
lost  even  him.  I  have  done  wrong,  very,  very  wrong,  I  know.11 
Here  poor  Arabella  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and 
wept  bitterly. 

Mr.  Pickwick's  nature  was  a  good  deal  worked  upon,  by 
these  same  tears;  but  when  Mrs.  Winkle,  drying  her  eyes, 
took  to  coaxing  and  entreating  in  the  sweetest  tones  of  a 
very  sweet  voice,  he  became  particularly  restless,  and  evi- 
dently undecided  how  to  act.  As  was  evinced  by  sundry 
nervous  rubbings  of  his  spectacle-glasses,  nose,  tights,  head, 
and  gaiters. 

Taking  advantage  of  these  symptoms  of  indecision,  Mr. 
Perker  (to  whom,  it  appeared,  the  young  couple  had  driven 
straight  that  morning)  urged  with  legal  point  and  shrewd- 
ness that  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  was  still  unacquainted  with 
the  important  rise  in  life's  flight  of  steps  which  his  son  had 
taken ;  that  the  future  expectations  of  the  said  son  depended 
entirely  upon  the  said  Winkle,  senior,  continuing  to  regard 
him  with  undiminished  feelings  of  affection  and  attachment, 
which  it  was  very  unlikely  he  would,  if  this  great  event 
were  long  kept  a  secret  from  him;  that  Mr.  Pickwick, 
repairing  to  Bristol  to  seek  Mr.  Allen,  might,  with  equal 
reason,  repair  to  Birmingham  to  seek  Mr.  Winkle,  senior; 
lastly,  that  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  had  good  right  and  title 


A  CONCESSION.  313 

to  consider  Mr.  Pickwick  as  in  some  degree  the  guardian 
and  adviser  of  his  son,  and  that  it  consequently  behoved 
that  gentleman,  and  was  indeed  due  to  his  personal  character, 
to  acquaint  the  aforesaid  Winkle,  senior,  personally,  and  by 
word  of  mouth,  with  the  whole  circumstances  of  the  case, 
and  with  the  share  he  had  taken  in  the  transaction. 

Mr.  Tupman  and  Mr.  Snodgrass  arrived,  most  opportunely, 
in  this  stage  of  the  pleadings,  and  as  it  was  necessary  to 
explain  to  them  all  that  had  occurred,  together  with  the 
various  reasons  pro  and  con,  the  whole  of  the  arguments 
were  gone  over  again,  after  which  everybody  urged  every 
argument  in  his  own  way,  and  at  his  own  length.  And,  at 
last,  Mr.  Pickwick,  fairly  argued  and  remonstrated  out  of 
all  his  resolutions,  and  being  in  imminent  danger  of  being 
argued  and  remonstrated  out  of  his  wits,  caught  Arabella  in 
his  arms,  and  declaring  that  she  was  a  very  amiable  creature, 
and  that  he  didn't  know  how  it  was,  but  he  had  always  been 
very  fond  of  her  from  the  first,  said  he  could  never  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  stand  in  the  way  of  young  people's  happiness, 
and  they  might  do  with  him  as  they  pleased. 

Mr.  Weller's  first  act,  on  hearing  this  concession,  was  to 
despatch  Job  Trotter  to  the  illustrious  Mr.  Pell,  with  an 
authority  to  deliver  to  the  bearer  the  formal  discharge  which 
his  prudent  parent  had  had  the  foresight  to  leave  in  the 
hands  of  that  learned  gentleman,  in  case  it  should  be,  at  any 
time,  required  on  an  emergency;  his  next  proceeding  was, 
to  invest  his  Avhole  stock  of  ready  money,  in  the  purchase 
of  five-and-twenty  gallons  of  mild  porter :  which  he  himself 
dispensed  on  the  racket  ground  to  everybody  who  would 
partake  of  it ;  this  done,  he  hurra'd  in  divers  parts  of  the 
building  until  he  lost  his  voice,  and  then  quietly  relapsed 
into  his  usual  collected  and  philosophical  condition. 

At  three  o'clock  that  afternoon,  Mr.  Pickwick  took  a  last 
look  at  his  little  room/  and  made  his  way,  as  well  as  he 
could,  through  the  throng  of  debtors  who  pressed  eagerly 
forward  to  shake  him  by  the  hand,  until  he  reached  the 


314  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

lodge  steps.  He  turned  here,  to  look  about  him,  and  his  eye 
lightened  as  he  did  so.  In  all  the  crowd  of  wan,  emaciated 
faces,  he  saw  not  one  which  was  not  the  happier  for  his 
sympathy  and  charity. 

"Perker,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  beckoning  one  young  man 
towards  him,  "this  is  Mr.  Jingle,  whom  I  spoke  to  you 
about"" 

"Very  good,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Perker,  looking  hard  at 
Jingle.  "  You  will  see  me  again,  young  man,  to-morrow.  I 
hope  you  may  live  to  remember  and  feel  deeply,  what  I  shall 
have  to  communicate,  sir." 

Jingle  bowed  respectfully,  trembled  very  much  as  he  took 
Mr.  Pickwick's  proffered  hand,  and  withdrew. 

"Job  you  know,  I  think?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  presenting 
that  gentleman. 

"I  know  the  rascal,"  replied  Perker,  good-humouredly. 
"  See  after  your  friend,  and  be  in  the  way  to-morrow  at  one. 
Do  you  hear  ?  Now,  is  there  anything  more  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  You  have  delivered 
the  little  parcel  I  gave  you  for  your  old  landlord,  Sam  ? " 

"I  have,  sir,"  replied  Sam.  "He  bust  out  a  cryin',  sir, 
and  said  you  wos  wery  gen'rous  and  thoughtful,  and  he  only 
wished  you  could  have  him  innokilated  for  a  gallopin1  con- 
sumption, for  his  old  friend  as  had  lived  here  so  long,  wos 
dead,  and  he'd  noweres  to  look  for  another." 

"Poor  fellow,  poor  fellow!"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "God 
bless  you,  my  friends ! " 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  uttered  this  adieu,  the  crowd  raised  a 
loud  shout.  Many  among  them  were  pressing  forward  to 
shake  him  by  the  hand,  again,  when  he  drew  his  arm  through 
PerkerX  and  hurried  from  the  prison:  far  more  sad  and 
melancholy,  for  the  moment,  than  when  he  had  first  entered 
it.  Alas!  how  many  sad  and  unhappy  beings  had  he  left 
behind ! 

A  happy  evening  was  that,  for,  at  least,  one  party  in  the 
George  and  Vulture ;  and  light  and  cheerful  were  two  of  the 


ADIEU  TO  THE  FLEET.  315 

hearts  that  emerged  from  its  hospitable  door  next  morning. 
The  owners  thereof  were  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Sam  Weller,  the 
former  of  whom  was  speedily  deposited  inside  a  comfortable 
post  coach,  with  a  little  dickey  behind,  in  which  the  latter 
mounted  with  great  agility. 

"  Sir,"  called  out  Mr.  Weller  to  his  master. 

"  Well,  Sam,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  thrusting  his  head  out 
of  the  window. 

"  I  wish  them  horses  had  been  three  months  and  better  in 
the  Fleet,  sir." 

"  Why,  Sam  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Wy,  sir,"1  exclaimed  Mr.  Weller,  rubbing  his  hands, 
"how  they  would  go  if  they  had  been ! " 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 

RELATES  HOW  MR.  PICKWICK,  WITH  THE  ASSISTANCE  OF  SAMUEL 
WELLER,  ESSAYED  TO  SOFTEN  THE  HEART  OF  MR.  BENJAMIN 
ALLEN,  AND  TO  MOLLIFY  THE  WRATH  OF  MR.  ROBERT 
SAWYER. 

MR.  BEN  ALLEN  and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  sat  together  in  the 
little  surgery  behind  the  shop,  discussing  minced  veal  and 
future  prospects,  when  the  discourse,  not  unnaturally,  turned 
upon  the  practice  acquired  by  Bob  the  aforesaid,  and  his 
present  chances  of  deriving  a  competent  independence  from 
the  honourable  profession  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself. 

" — Which,  I  think,"  observed  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  pursuing 
the  thread  of  the  subject,  "  which,  I  think,  Ben,  are  rather 
dubious.11 

"  What's  rather  dubious  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  at  the 
same  time  sharpening  his  intellects  with  a  draught  of  beer. 
"What's  dubious?" 

"Why,  the  chances,"  responded  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  I  forgot,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen.  "  The  beer  has  reminded 
me  that  I  forgot,  Bob — yes ;  they  are  dubious." 

"It's  wonderful  how  the  poor  people  patronise  me,"  said 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  reflectively.  "They  knock  me  up,  at  all 
hours  of  the  night;  they  take  medicine  to  an  extent  which 
I  should  have  conceived  impossible;  they  put  on  blisters  and 
leeches  with  a  perseverance  worthy  of  a  better  cause ;  they 
make  additions  to  their  families,  in  a  manner  which  is  quite 


A  WANT  OF  TASTE.  317 

awful.  Six  of  those  last-named  little  promissory  notes,  all 
due  on  the  same  day,  Ben,  and  all  intrusted  to  me ! " 

"It's  very  gratifying,  isn't  it.?T>  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  holding 
his  plate  for  some  more  minced  veal. 

"  Oh,  very,"  replied  Bob ;  "  only  not  quite  so  much  so,  as 
the  confidence  of  patients  with  a  shilling  or  two  to  spare, 
would  be.  This  business  was  capitally  described  in  the 
advertisement,  Ben.  It  is  a  practice,  a  very  extensive  practice 
— and  that's  all." 

"  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  laying  down  his  knife  and  fork, 
and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  visage  of  his  friend:  "Bob,  Til 
tell  you  what  it  is." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"You  must  make  yourself,  with  as  little  delay  as  possible, 
master  of  Arabella's  one  thousand  pounds." 

"  Three  per  cent,  consolidated  Bank  annuities,  now  standing 
in  her  name  in  the  book  or  books  of  the  Governor  and 
Company  of  the  Bank  of  England,"  added  Bob  Sawyer,  in 
legal  phraseology. 

"Exactly  so,"  said  Ben.  "She  has  it  when  she  comes  of 
age,  or  marries.  She  wants  a  year  of  coming  of  age,  and  if 
you  plucked  up  a  spirit  she  needn't  want  a  month  of  being 
married." 

"She's  a  very  charming  and  delightful  creature,"  quoth 
Mr.  Robert  Sawyer,  in  reply;  "and  has  only  one  fault  that 
I  know  of,  Ben.  It  happens,  unfortunately,  that  that  single 
blemish  is  a  want  of  taste.  She  don't  like  me." 

"  It's  my  opinion  that  she  don't  know  what  she  does  like," 
said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  contemptuously. 

"Perhaps  not,"  remarked  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer.  "But  it's  my 
opinion  that  she  does  know  what  she  doesn't  like,  and  that's 
of  more  importance." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  setting  his  teeth  together, 
and  speaking  more  like  a  savage  warrior  who  fed  on  raw 
wolfs  flesh  which  he  carved  with  his  fingers,  than  a  peaceable 
young  gentleman  who  ate  minced  veal  with  a  knife  and  fork, 


318  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  whether  any  rascal  really  has  been  tampering 
with  her,  and  attempting  to  engage  her  affections.  I  think 
I  should  assassinate  him,  Bob."" 

"Fd  put  a  bullet  in  him,  if  I  found  him  out,"  said  Mr. 
Sawyer,  stopping  in  the  course  of  a  long  draught  of  beer, 
and  looking  malignantly  out  of  the  porter  pot.  "If  that 
didn't  do  his  business,  Td  extract  it  afterwards,  and  kill  him 
that  way." 

Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  gazed  abstractedly  on  his  friend  for 
some  minutes  in  silence,  and  then  said : 

"You  have  never  proposed  to  her,  point-blank,  Bob?" 

"  No.  Because  I  saw  it  would  be  of  no  use,11  replied  Mr. 
Robert  Sawyer. 

"  You  shall  do  it,  before  you  are  twenty -four  hours  older,11 
retorted  Ben,  with  desperate  calmness.  "  She  shall  have  you, 
or  Til  know  the  reason  why.  Til  exert  my  authority.11 

"Well,11  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  "we  shall  see.11 

"We  shall  see,  my  friend,11  replied  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  fiercely. 
He  paused  for  a  few  seconds,  and  added  in  a  voice  broken  by 
emotion,  "  You  have  loved  her  from  a  child,  my  friend.  You 
loved  her  when  we  were  boys  at  school  together,  and,  even 
then,  she  was  wayward,  and  slighted  your  young  feelings. 
Do  you  recollect,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  child's  love,  one 
day  pressing  upon  her  acceptance,  two  small  caraway-seed 
biscuits  and  one  sweet  apple,  neatly  folded  into  a  circular 
parcel  with  the  leaf  of  a  copybook  ? " 

"I  do,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  She  slighted  that,  I  think  ? "  said  Ben  Allen. 

"  She  did,11  rejoined  Bob.  "  She  said  I  had  kept  the  parcel 
so  long  in  the  pockets  of  my  corduroys,  that  the  apple  was 
unpleasantly  warm.11 

"I  remember,""  said  Mr.  Allen,  gloomily.  "Upon  which 
we  ate  it  ourselves,  in  alternate  bites.11 

Bob  Sawyer  intimated  his  recollection  of  the  circumstance 
last  alluded  to,  by  a  melancholy  frown ;  and  the  two  friends 
remained  for  some  time  absorbed,  each  in  his  own  meditations. 


ARRIVAL  OF  A  FLY.  319 

While  these  observations  were  being  exchanged  between 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  and  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen;  and  while  the 
boy  in  the  grey  livery,  marvelling  at  the  unwonted  prolonga- 
tion of  the  dinner,  cast  an  anxious  look,  from  time  to  time, 
towards  the  glass  door,  distracted  by  inward  misgivings 
regarding  the  amount  of  minced  veal  which  would  be 
ultimately  reserved  for  his  individual  cravings;  there  rolled 
soberly  on  through  the  streets  of  Bristol,  a  private  fly,  painted 
of  a  sad  green  colour,  drawn  by  a  chubby  sort  of  brown 
horse,  and  driven  by  a  surly-looking  man  with  his  legs  dressed 
like  the  legs  of  a  groom,  and  his  body  attired  in  the  coat 
of  a  coachman.  Such  appearances  are  common  to  many 
vehicles  belonging  to,  and  maintained  by,  old  ladies  of 
economic  habits;  and  in  this  vehicle,  sat  an  old  lady  who 
was  its  mistress  and  proprietor. 

"  Martin ! "  said  the  old  lady,  calling  to  the  surly  man, 
out  of  the  front  window. 

"Well?"  said  the  surly  man,  touching  his  hat  to  the  old 
lady. 

"Mr.  Sawyer's,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  I  was  going  there,"  said  the  surly  man. 

The  old  lady  nodded  the  satisfaction  which  this  proof  of 
the  surly  man's  foresight  imparted  to  her  feelings;  and  the 
surly  man  giving  a  smart  lash  to  the  chubby  horse,  they  all 
repaired  to  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  together. 

"  Martin ! "  said  the  old  lady,  when  the  fly  stopped  at  the 
door  of  Mr.  Robert  Sawyer  late  Nockemorf. 

"Well? "said  Martin. 

"Ask  the  lad  to  step  out,  and  mind  the  horse." 

"I'm  going  to  mind  the  horse  myself,"  said  Martin,  laying 
his  whip  on  the  roof  of  the  fly. 

"I  can't  permit  it,  on  any  account,"  said  the  old  lady; 
"your  testimony  will  be  very  important,  and  I  must  take 
you  into  the  house  with  me.  You  must  not  stir  from  my 
side  during  the  whole  interview.  Do  you  hear?" 

"I  hear,"  replied  Martin. 


320  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  Well ;  what  are  you  stopping  for  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  replied  Martin.  So  saying,  the  surly  man 
leisurely  descended  from  the  wheel,  on  which  he  had  been 
poising  himself  on  the  tops  of  the  toes  of  his  right  foot,  and 
having  summoned  the  boy  in  the  grey  livery  opened  the 
coach-door,  flung  down  the  steps,  and  thrusting  in  a  hand 
enveloped  in  a  dark  wash-leather  glove,  pulled  out  the  old 
lady  with  as  much  unconcern  in  his  manner  as  if  she  were  a 
bandbox. 

"  Dear  me ! "  exclaimed  the  old  lady.  "  I  am  so  flurried, 
now  I  have  got  here,  Martin,  that  I'm  all  in  a  tremble." 

Mr.  Martin  coughed  behind  the  dark  wash-leather  glove,  but 
expressed  no  sympathy ;  so  the  old  lady,  composing  herself, 
trotted  up  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  steps,  and  Mr.  Martin  followed, 
Immediately  on  the  old  lady's  entering  the  shop,  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen  and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  had  been  putting  the  spirits 
and  water  out  of  sight,  and  upsetting  nauseous  drugs  to  take 
off  the  smell  of  the  tobacco-smoke,  issued  hastily  forth  in  a 
transport  of  pleasure  and  affection. 

"My  dear  aunt,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  "how  kind 
of  you  to  look  in  upon  us!  Mr.  Sawyer,  aunt;  my  friend 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  whom  I  have  spoken  to  you  about,  regard- 
ing— you  know,  aunt."  And  here  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  who  was 
not  at  the  moment  extraordinarily  sober,  added  the  word 
"Arabella,"  in  what  was  meant  to  be  a  whisper,  but  which 
was  an  especially  audible  and  distinct  tone  of  speech,  which 
nobody  could  avoid  hearing,  if  anybody  were  so  disposed. 

"My  dear  Benjamin,"  said  the  old  lady,  struggling  with  a 
great  shortness  of  breath,  and  trembling  from  head  to  foot : 
"don't  be  alarmed,  my  dear,  but  I  think  I  had  better  speak 
to  Mr.  Sawyer,  alone,  for  a  moment.  Only  for  one  moment." 

"Bob,"  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  "will  you  take  my  aunt  into 
the  surgery?" 

"Certainly,"  responded  Bob,  in  a  most  professional  voice. 
"  Step  this  way,  my  dear  ma'am.  Don't  be  frightened,  ma'am. 
We  shall  be  able  to  set  you  to  rights  in  a  very  short  time, 


A  MISUNDERSTANDING.  321 

I  have  no  doubt,  ma'am.  Here,  my  dear  ma'am.  Now  then ! " 
With  this,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  having  handed  the  old  lady 
to  a  chair,  shut  the  door,  drew  another  chair  close  to  her, 
and  waited  to  hear  detailed  the  symptoms  of  some  disorder 
from  which  he  saw  in  perspective  a  long  train  of  profits  and 
advantages. 

The  first  thing  the  old  lady  did,  was  to  shake  her  head  a 
great  many  times,  and  begin  to  cry. 

"  Nervous,"  said  Bob  Sawyer  complacently.  "  Camphor- 
julep  and  water  three  times  a-day,  and  composing  draught 
at  night." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  begin,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "It  is  so  very  painful  and  distressing." 

"You  need  not  begin,  ma'am,"  rejoined  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 
"  I  can  anticipate  all  you  would  say.  The  head  is  in  fault." 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  think  it  was  the  heart,"  said 
the  old  lady,  with  a  slight  groan. 

"Not  the  slightest  danger  of  that,  ma'am,"  replied  Bob 
Sawyer.  "The  stomach  is  the  primary  cause." 

"Mr.  Sawyer!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  starting. 

"  Not  the  least  doubt  of  it,  ma'am,"  rejoined  Bob,  looking 
wondrous  wise.  "  Medicine,  in  time,  my  dear  ma'am,  would 
have  prevented  it  all." 

"  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  old  lady,  more  flurried  than  before, 
"this  conduct  is  either  great  impertinence  to  one  in  my 
situation,  sir,  or  it  arises  from  your  not  understanding  the 
object  of  my  visit.  If  it  had  been  in  the  power  of  medicine, 
or  any  foresight  I  could  have  used,  to  prevent  what  has 
occurred,  I  should  certainly  have  done  so.  I  had  better  see 
my  nephew  at  once,"  said  the  old  lady,  twirling  her  reticule 
indignantly,  and  rising  as  she  spoke. 

"  Stop  a  moment,  ma'am,"  said  Bob  Sawyer ;  "  I'm  afraid 
I  have  not  understood  you.  What  is  the  matter,  ma'am  ? " 

"  My  niece,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  old  lady ;  "  your  friend's 
sister." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Bob,  all  impatience ;  for  the  old  lady, 

VOL.   II.  Y 


322  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

although  much  agitated,  spoke  with  the  most  tantalising 
deliberation,  as  old  ladies  often  do.  "Yes,  ma'am.'0 

"  Left  my  home,  Mr.  Sawyer,  three  days  ago,  on  a  pretended 
visit  to  my  sister,  another  aunt  of  hers,  who  keeps  the  large 
boarding-school  just  beyond  the  third  mile-stone  where  there 
is  a  very  large  laburnum  tree  and  an  oak  gate,11  said  the  old 
lady,  stopping  in  this  place  to  dry  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  devil  take  the  laburnum  tree  !  ma'am,""  said  Bob,  quite 
forgetting  his  professional  dignity  in  his  anxiety.  "  Get  on 
a  little  faster;  put  a  little  more  steam  on,  ma'am,  pray."" 

"  This  morning,1"1  said  the  old  lady,  slowly,  "  this  morning, 
she " 

"She  came  back,  ma'am,  I  suppose,""  said  Bob,  with  great 
amimation.  "  Did  she  come  back  ?  " 

"No,  she  did  not;  she  wrote,11  replied  the  old  lady. 

"What  did  she  say?11  inquired  Bob,  eagerly. 

"  She  said,  Mr.  Sawyer,11  replied  the  old  lady — "  and  it  is 
this,  I  want  you  to  prepare  Benjamin's  mind  for,  gently  and 
by  degrees ;  she  said  that  she  was — I  have  got  the  letter  in  my 
pocket,  Mr.  Sawyer,  but  my  glasses  are  in  the  carriage,  and 
I  should  only  waste  your  time  if  I  attempted  to  point  out 
the  passage  to  you,  without  them ;  she  said,  in  short,  Mr. 
Sawyer,  that  she  was  married." 

"  What ! "  said,  or  rather  shouted,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"Married,11  repeated  the  old  lady. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  stopped  to  hear  no  more;  but  darting 
from  the  surgery  into  the  outer  shop,  cried  in  a  stentorian 
voice,  "  Ben,  my  boy,  she's  bolted  ! " 

Mr.  Ben  Allen,  who  had  been  slumbering  behind  the  counter, 
with  his  head  half  a  foot  or  so  below  his  knees,  no  sooner 
heard  this  appalling  communication,  than  he  made  a  precipitate 
rush  at  Mr.  Martin,  and,  twisting  his  hand  in  the  neckcloth 
of  that  taciturn  servitor,  expressed  an  intention  of  choking 
him  where  he  stood.  This  intention,  with  a  promptitude 
often  the  effect  of  desperation,  he  at  once  commenced  carrying 
into  execution,  with  much  vigour  and  surgical  skill. 


AN   EXCITING    SCENE.  323 

Mr.  Martin,  who  was  a  man  of  few  words  and  possessed 
but  little  power  of  eloquence  or  persuasion,  submitted  to  this 
operation  with  a  very  calm  and  agreeable  expression  of 
countenance,  for  some  seconds;  finding,  however,  that  it 
threatened  speedily  to  lead  to  a  result  which  would  place  it 
beyond  his  power  to  claim  any  wages,  board  or  otherwise,  in 
all  time  to  come,  he  muttered  an  inarticulate  remonstrance 
and  felled  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  to  the  ground.  As  that 
gentleman  had  his  hands  entangled  in  his  cravat,  he  had  no 
alternative  but  to  follow  him  to  the  floor.  There  they  both 
lay  struggling,  when  the  shop  door  opened,  and  the  party  was 
increased  by  the  arrival  of  two  most  unexpected  visitors :  to 
wit,  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  Mr.  Samuel  Weller. 

The  impression  at  once  produced  on  Mr.  Weller's  mind  by 
what  he  saw,  was,  that  Mr.  Martin  was  hired  by  the  establish- 
ment of  Sawyer  late  Nockemorf,  to  take  strong  medicine,  or 
to  go  into  fits  and  be  experimentalised  upon,  or  to  swallow 
poison  now  and  then  with  the  view  of  testing  the  efficacy  of 
some  new  antidotes,  or  to  do  something  or  other  to  promote 
the  great  science  of  medicine,  and  gratify  the  ardent  spirit  of 
inquiry  burning  in  the  bosoms  of  its  two  young  professors. 
So,  without  presuming  to  interfere,  Sam  stood  perfectly  still, 
and  looked  on,  as  if  he  were  mightily  interested  in  the  result 
of  the  then  pending  experiment.  Not  so,  Mr.  Pickwick.  He 
at  once  threw  himself  on  the  astonished  combatants,  with  his 
accustomed  energy,  and  loudly  called  upon  the  by-standers 
to  interpose. 

This  roused  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  had  been  hitherto  quite 
paralysed  by  the  frenzy  of  his  companion.  With  that 
gentleman's  assistance,  Mr.  Pickwick  raised  Ben  Allen  to  his 
feet.  Mr.  Martin  finding  himself  alone  on  the  floor,  got  up, 
and  looked  about  him. 

"Mr.  Allen,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "what  is  the  matter, 
sir  ?  " 

"Never  mind,  sir!"  replied  Mr.  Allen,  with  haughty 
defiance. 


324  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"What  is  it?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  at  Bob 
Sawyer.  "  Is  he  unwell  ?  " 

Before  Bob  could  reply,  Mr.  Ben  Allen  seized  Mr.  Pickwick 
by  the  hand,  and  murmured,  in  sorrowful  accents,  "  My  sister, 
my  dear  sir;  my  sister.1' 

"  Oh,  is  that  all ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  We  shall  easily 
arrange  that  matter,  I  hope.  Your  sister  is  safe  and  well, 
and  I  am  here,  my  dear  sir,  to " 

"Sorry  to  do  anythin'  as  may  cause  an  interruption  to 
such  wery  pleasant  proceedings,  as  the  king  said  wen  he 
dissolved  the  parliament,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller,  who  had 
been  peeping  through  the  glass  door;  "but  there's  another 
experiment  here,  sir.  Here's  a  wenerable  old  lady  a  lyin'  on 
the  carpet  waitin'  for  dissection,  or  galwinism,  or  some  other 
rewivin'  and  scientific  inwention." 

"  I  forgot,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Ben  Allen.     "  It  is  my  aunt." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Poor  lady  !  Gently, 
Sam,  gently." 

"Strange  sitivation  for  one  o'  the  family,"  observed  Sam 
Weller,  hoisting  the  aunt  into  a  chair.  "Now,  depitty 
Sawbones,  bring  out  the  wollatilly!" 

The  latter  observation  was  addressed  to  the  boy  in  grey, 
who,  having  handed  over  the  fly  to  the  care  of  the  street- 
keeper,  had  come  back  to  see  what  all  the  noise  was  about. 
Between  the  boy  in  grey,  and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  and  Mr. 
Benjamin  Allen  (who  having  frightened  his  aunt  into  a 
fainting  fit,  was  affectionately  solicitous  for  her  recovery) 
the  old  lady  was,  at  length,  restored  to  consciousness;  then 
Mr.  Ben  Allen,  turning  with  a  puzzled  countenance  to  Mr. 
Pickwick,  asked  him  what  he  was  about  to  say,  when  he  had 
been  so  alarmingly  interrrupted. 

"  We  are  all  friends  here,  I  presume  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
clearing  his  voice,  and  looking  towards  the  man  of  few  words 
with  the  surly  countenance,  who  drove  the  fly  with  the 
chubby  horse. 

This  reminded  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  that  the  boy  in  grey  was 


A  MAGNANIMOUS  DENUNCIATION.         325 

looking  on,  with  eyes  wide  open,  and  greedy  ears.  The 
incipient  chemist  having  been  lifted  up  by  his  coat  collar, 
and  dropped  outside  the  door,  Bob  Sawyer  assured  Mr. 
Pickwick  that  he  might  speak  without  reserve. 

"  Your  sister,  my  dear  sir,1"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  turning  to 
Benjamin  Allen,  "  is  in  London ;  well  and  happy." 

"  Her  happiness  is  no  object  to  me,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen,  with  a  flourish  of  the  hand. 

"Her  husband  is  an  object  to  me,  sir,"  said  Bob  Sawyer. 
"He  shall  be  an  object  to  me,  sir,  at  twelve  paces,  and  a 
very  pretty  object  Fll  make  of  him,  sir — a  mean-spirited 
scoundrel ! "  This,  as  it  stood,  was  a  very  pretty  denuncia- 
tion, and  magnanimous  withal;  but  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  rather 
weakened  its  effect,  by  winding  up  with  some  general  observa- 
tions concerning  the  punching  of  heads  and  knocking  out  of 
eyes,  which  were  commonplace  by  comparison. 

"Stay,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "before  you  apply  those 
epithets  to  the  gentleman  in  question,  consider,  dispassionately, 
the  extent  of  his  fault,  and  above  all  remember  that  he  is  a 
friend  of  mine." 

"  What ! "  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  His  name  !  "  cried  Ben  Allen.     "  His  name  ! " 

"Mr.  Nathaniel  Winkle,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  deliberately  crushed  his  spectacles 
beneath  the  heel  of  his  boot,  and  having  picked  up  the  pieces, 
and  put  them  into  three  separate  pockets,  folded  his  arms, 
bit  his  lips,  and  looked  in  a  threatening  manner  at  the  bland 
features  of  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Then  ifs  you,  is  it,  sir,  who  have  encouraged  and 
brought  about  this  match  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen 
at  length. 

"  And  it's  this  gentleman's  servant,  I  suppose,"  interrupted 
the  old  lady,  "  who  has  been  skulking  about  my  house,  and 
endeavouring  to  entrap  my  servants  to  conspire  against  their 
mistress.  Martin ! " 

"  Well  ? "  said  the  surly  man,  coming  forward. 


326  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

"Is  that  the  young  man  you  saw  in  the  lane,  whom  you 
told  me  about,  this  morning  ? " 

Mr.  Martin,  who,  as  it  has  already  appeared,  was  a  man 
of  few  words,  looked  at  Sam  Weller,  nodded  his  head,  and 
growled  forth,  "  That's  the  man ! "  Mr.  Weller,  who  was 
never  proud,  gave  a  smile  of  friendly  recognition  as  his  eyes 
encountered  those  of  the  surly  groom,  and  admitted,  in 
courteous  terms,  that  he  had  "knowed  him  afore.11 

"And  this  is  the  faithful  creature,'1  exclaimed  Mr.  Ben 
Allen,  "  whom  I  had  nearly  suffocated !  Mr.  Pickwick,  how 
dare  you  allow  your  fellow  to  be  employed  in  the  abduction 
of  my  sister  ?  I  demand  that  you  explain  this  matter,  sir.11 

"Explain  it,  sir!11  cried  Bob  Sawyer,  fiercely. 

"It's  a  conspiracy,"  said  Ben  Allen. 

"A  regular  plant,11  added  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 

"A  disgraceful  imposition,11  observed  the  old  lady. 

"Nothing  but  a  do,11  remarked  Martin. 

"Pray  hear  me,11  urged  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  Mr.  Ben  Allen 
fell  into  a  chair  that  patients  were  bled  in,  and  gave  way  to 
his  pocket-handkerchief.  "I  have  rendered  no  assistance  in 
this  matter,  beyond  that  of  being  present  at  one  interview 
between  the  young  people,  which  I  could  not  prevent,  and 
from  which  I  conceived  my  presence  would  remove  any  slight 
colouring  of  impropriety  that  it  might  otherwise  have  had ; 
this  is  the  whole  share  I  have  taken  in  the  transaction,  and 
I  had  no  suspicion  that  an  immediate  marriage  was  even 
contemplated.  Though,  mind,11  added  Mr.  Pickwick,  hastily 
checking  himself,  "mind,  I  do  not  say  I  should  have  pre- 
vented it,  if  I  had  known  that  it  was  intended."" 

"  You  hear  that,  all  of  you ;  you  hear  that  ? n  said  Mr. 
Benjamin  Allen. 

"I  hope  they  do,"  mildly  observed  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking 
round,  "and,11  added  that  gentleman:  his  colour  mounting 
as  he  spoke :  "  I  hope  they  hear  this,  sir,  also.  That  from 
what  has  been  stated  to  me,  sir,  I  assert  that  you  were  by 
no  means  justified  in  attempting  to  force  your  sister's 


MR.  WELLER  EXPLAINS  MATTERS.        327 

inclinations  as  you  did,  and  that  you  should  rather  have 
endeavoured  by  your  kindness  and  forbearance  to  have  supplied 
the  place  of  other  nearer  relations  whom  she  has  never  known, 
from  a  child.  As  regards  my  young  friend,  I  must  beg  to 
add,  that  in  every  point  of  worldly  advantage,  he  is,  at  least, 
on  an  equal  footing  with  yourself,  if  not  on  a  much  better 
one,  and  that  unless  I  hear  this  question  discussed  with 
becoming  temper  and  moderation,  I  decline  hearing  any  more 
said  upon  the  subject.''1 

"I  wish  to  make  a  wery  few  remarks  in  addition  to  wot 
has  been  put  forard  by  the  honorable  genTnVn  as  has  jist 
give  over,'1  said  Mr.  Weller,  stepping  forth,  "wich  is  this 
here :  a  indiwidual  in  company  has  called  me  a  feller." 

"That  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  matter,  Sam,1' 
interposed  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Pray  hold  your  tongue.11 

"I  ain't  a  goin1  to  say  nothin1  on  that  ere  pint,  sir,1' 
replied  Sam,  "but  merely  this  here.  P'raps  that  genTm'n 
may  think  as  there  wos  a  priory  'tachment ;  but  there  worn't 
nothin1  o'  the  sort,  for  the  young  lady  said,  in  the  wery 
beginnin1  o'  the  keepin1  company,  that  she  couldn't  abide 
him.  Nobody1s  cut  him  out,  and  it  'ud  ha'  been  jist  the 
wery  same  for  him  if  the  young  lady  had  never  seen  Mr. 
Vinkle.  That's  wot  I  wished  to  say,  sir,  and  I  hope  I've 
now  made  that  'ere  genl'mVs  mind  easy.11 

A  short  pause  followed  these  consolatory  remarks  of  Mr. 
Weller.  Then  Mr.  Ben  Allen  rising  from  his  chair,  protested 
that  he  would  never  see  Arabella^  face  again  :  while  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer,  despite  Sam's  flattering  assurance,  vowed  dreadful 
vengeance  on  the  happy  bridegroom. 

But,  just  when  matters  were  at  their  height,  and  threatening 
to  remain  so,  Mr.  Pickwick  found  a  powerful  assistant  in 
the  old  lady,  who,  evidently  much  struck  by  the  mode  in 
which  he  had  advocated  her  niece's  cause,  ventured  to  approach 
Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  with  a  few  comforting  reflections,  of 
which  the  chief  were,  that  after  all,  perhaps,  it  was  well  it 
was  no  worse ;  the  least  said  the  soonest  mended,  and  upon 


328  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

her  word  she  did  not  know  that  it  was  so  very  bad  after  all ; 
what  was  over  couldn't  be  begun,  and  what  couldn't  be  cured 
must  be  endured :  with  various  other  assurances  of  the  like 
novel  and  strengthening  description.  To  all  of  these,  Mr. 
Benjamin  Allen  replied  that  he  meant  no  disrespect  to  his 
aunt,  or  anybody  there,  but  if  it  were  all  the  same  to  them, 
and  they  would  allow  him  to  have  his  own  way,  he  would 
rather  have  the  pleasure  of  hating  his  sister  till  death,  and 
after  it. 

At  length,  when  this  determination  had  been  announced 
half  a  hundred  times,  the  old  lady  suddenly  bridling  up  and 
looking  very  majestic,  wished  to  know  what  she  had  done 
that  no  respect  was  to  be  paid  to  her  years  or  station,  and 
that  she  should  be  obliged  to  beg  and  pray,  in  that  way, 
of  her  own  nephew,  whom  she  remembered  about  five-and- 
twenty  years  before  he  was  born,  and  whom  she  had  known, 
personally,  when  he  hadn't  a  tooth  in  his  head?  To  say 
nothing  of  her  presence  on  the  first  occasion  of  his  having 
his  hair  cut,  and  assistance  at  numerous  other  times  and 
ceremonies  during  his  babyhood,  of  sufficient  importance  to 
found  a  claim  upon  his  affection,  obedience,  and  sympathies, 
for  ever. 

While  the  good  lady  was  bestowing  this  objurgation  on 
Mr.  Ben  Allen,  Bob  Sawyer  and  Mr.  Pickwick  had  retired  in 
close  conversation  to  the  inner  room,  where  Mr.  Sawyer  was 
observed  to  apply  himself  several  times  to  the  mouth  of  a 
black  bottle,  under  the  influence  of  which,  his  features 
gradually  assumed  a  cheerful  and  even  jovial  expression. 
And  at  last  he  emerged  from  the  room,  bottle  in  hand,  and, 
remarking  that  he  was  very  sorry  to  say  he  had  been  making 
a  fool  of  himself,  begged  to  propose  the  health  and  happiness 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winkle,  whose  felicity,  so  far  from  envying, 
he  would  be  the  first  to  congratulate  them  upon.  Hearing 
this,  Mr.  Ben  Allen  suddenly  arose  from  his  chair,  and,  seizing 
the  black  bottle,  drank  the  toast  so  heartily,  that,  the  liquor 
being  strong,  he  became  nearly  as  black  in  the  face  as  the 


MR.  PICKWICK  RETURNS  TO  THE  BUSH.     329 

bottle.  Finally,  the  black  bottle  went  round  till  it  was 
empty,  and  there  was  so  much  shaking  of  hands  and  inter- 
changing of  compliments,  that  even  the  metal-visaged  Mr. 
Martin  condescended  to  smile. 

"  And  now,'1  said  Bob  Sawyer,  rubbing  his  hands,  "  well 
have  a  jolly  night.1' 

"I  am  sorry,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "that  I  must  return 
to  my  inn.  I  have  not  been  accustomed  to  fatigue  lately, 
and  my  journey  has  tired  me  exceedingly.11 

"  You'll  take  some  tea,  Mr.  Pickwick  ? 11  said  the  old  lady, 
with  irresistible  sweetness. 

"Thank  you,  I  would  rather  not,11  replied  that  gentleman. 
The  truth  is,  that  the  old  lady's  evidently  increasing  admira- 
tion, was  Mr.  Pickwick's  principal  inducement  for  going  away. 
He  thought  of  Mrs.  Bardell;  and  every  glance  of  the  old 
lady^  eyes  threw  him  into  a  cold  perspiration. 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  could  by  no  means  be  prevailed  upon  to 
stay,  it  was  arranged  at  once,  on  his  own  proposition,  that 
Mr.  Benjamin  Allen  should  accompany  him  on  his  journey 
to  the  elder  Mr.  Winkle's,  and  that  the  coach  should  be  at 
the  door,  at  nine  o'clock  next  morning.  He  then  took  his 
leave,  and,  followed  by  Samuel  Weller,  repaired  to  the  Bush. 
It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Mr.  Martin's  face  was  horribly 
convulsed  as  he  shook  hands  with  Sam  at  parting,  and  that 
he  gave  vent  to  a  smile  and  an  oath  simultaneously:  from 
which  tokens  it  has  been  inferred  by  those  who  were  best 
acquainted  with  that  gentleman's  peculiarities,  that  he  ex- 
pressed himself  much  pleased  with  Mr.  Weller's  society,  and 
requested  the  honour  of  his  further  acquaintance. 

"Shall  I  order  a  private  room,  sir?"  inquired  Sam,  when 
they  reached  the  Bush.  x 

"Why,  no,  Sam,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick;  "as  I  dined  in 
the  coffee  room,  and  shall  go  to  bed  soon,  it  is  hardly  worth 
while.  See  who  there  is  in  the  travellers'  room,  Sam." 

Mr.  Weller  departed  on  his  errand,  and  presently  returned 
to  say,  that  there  was  only  a  gentleman  with  one  eye ;  and 


330  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

that  he  and  the  landlord  were  drinking  a  bowl  of  bishop 
together. 

"  I  will  join  them,""  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"He's  a  queer  customer,  the  vun-eyed  vun,  sir,"  observed 
Mr.  Weller,  as  he  led  the  way.  "  He's  a  gammonin'  that 
'ere  landlord,  he  is,  sir,  till  he  don't  rightly  know  wether 
he's  a  standing  on  the  soles  of  his  boots  or  the  crown  of  his 
hat." 

The  individual  to  whom  this  observation  referred,  was 
sitting  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room  when  Mr.  Pickwick 
entered,  and  was  smoking  a  large  Dutch  pipe,  with  his  eye 
intently  fixed  on  the  round  face  of  the  landlord :  a  jolly 
looking  old  personage,  to  whom  he  had  recently  been  relating 
some  tale  of  wonder,  as  was  testified  by  sundry  disjointed 
exclamations  of,  "  Well,  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it !  The 
strangest  thing  I  ever  heard!  Couldn't  have  supposed  it 
possible ! "  and  other  expressions  of  astonishment  which  burst 
spontaneously  from  his  lips,  as  he  returned  the  fixed  gaze  of 
the  one-eyed  man. 

"Servant,  sir,"  said  the  one-eyed  man  to  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  Fine  night,  sir." 

"  Very  much  so  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  the  waiter 
placed  a  small  decanter  of  brandy,  and  some  hot  water  before 
him. 

While  Mr.  Pickwick  was  mixing  his  brandy  and  water,  the 
eye-eyed  man  looked  round  at  him  earnestly,  from  time  to 
time,  and  at  length  said : 

"  I  think  I've  seen  you  before." 

"  I  don't  recollect  you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  I  dare  say  not,"  said  the  one-eyed  man.  "  You  didn't 
know  me,  but  I  knew  two  friends  of  yours  that  were  stopping 
at  the  Peacock  at  Eatanswill,  at  the  time  of  the  Election." 

"  Oh,  indeed ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  the  one-eyed  man.  "  I  mentioned  a  little 
circumstance  to  them  about  a  friend  of  mine  of  the  name  of 
Tom  Smart.  Perhaps  you've  heard  them  speak  of  it." 


THE  ONE-EYED   BAGMAN.  331 

"Often,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  smiling.  "He  was  your 
uncle,  I  think?" 

"  No,  no ;  only  a  friend  of  my  uncle's,"  replied  the  one- 
eyed  man. 

"  He  was  a  wonderful  man,  that  uncle  of  yours,  though," 
remarked  the  landlord,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Well,  I  think  he  was,  I  think  I  may  say  he  was,"  answered 
the  one-eyed  man.  "  I  could  tell  you  a  story  about  that  same 
uncle,  gentlemen,  that  would  rather  surprise  you." 

"  Could  you  ? "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Let  us  hear  it,  by 
all  means." 

The  one-eyed  Bagman  ladled  out  a  glass  of  negus  from  the 
bowl,  and  drank  it ;  smoked  a  long  whiff  out  of  the  Dutch 
pipe;  and  then,  calling  to  Sam  Weller  who  was  lingering 
near  the  door,  that  he  needn't  go  away  unless  he  wanted  to, 
because  the  story  was  no  secret,  fixed  his  eye  upon  the 
landlord's  and  proceeded,  in  the  words  of  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

CONTAINING   THE   STORY   OF   THE   BAGMAN^S    UNCLE. 

"  MY  uncle,  gentlemen,""  said  the  bagman,  "  was  one  of  the 
merriest,  pleasantest,  cleverest  fellows  that  ever  lived.  I  wish 
you  had  known  him,  gentlemen.  On  second  thoughts,  gentle- 
men, I  don't  wish  you  had  known  him,  for  if  you  had,  you 
would  have  been  all,  by  this  time,  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  nature,  if  not  dead,  at  all  events  so  near  it,  as  to  have 
taken  to  stopping  at  home  and  giving  up  company :  which 
would  have  deprived  me  of  the  inestimable  pleasure  of 
addressing  you  at  this  moment.  Gentlemen,  I  wish  your 
fathers  and  mothers  had  known  my  uncle.  They  would 
have  been  amazingly  fond  of  him,  especially  your  respectable 
mothers ;  I  know  they  would.  If  any  two  of  his  numerous 
virtues  predominated  over  the  many  that  adorned  his  character, 
I  should  say  they  were  his  mixed  punch  and  his  after  supper 
song.  Excuse  my  dwelling  on  these  melancholy  recollections 
of  departed  worth;  you  won't  see  a  man  like  my  uncle 
every  day  in  the  week. 

"  I  have  always  considered  it  a  great  point  in  my  uncle's 
character,  gentlemen,  that  he  was  the  intimate  friend  and 
companion  of  Tom  Smart,  of  the  great  house  of  Bilson  and 
Slum,  Cateaton  Street,  City.  My  uncle  collected  for  Tiggin 
and  Welps,  but  for  a  long  time  he  went  pretty  near  the  same 
journey  as  Tom ;  and  the  very  first  night  they  met,  my  uncle 
took  a  fancy  for  Tom,  and  Tom  took  a  fancy  for  my  uncle. 
They  made  a  bet  of  a  new  hat  before  they  had  known  each 


THE   BAGMAN'S  UNCLE.  333 

other  half  an  hour,  who  should  brew  the  best  quart  of  punch 
and  drink  it  the  quickest.  My  uncle  was  judged  to  have  won 
the  making,  but  Tom  Smart  beat  him  in  the  drinking  by 
about  half  a  salt-spoon-full.  They  took  another  quart  a-piece 
to  drink  each  other's  health  in,  and  were  staunch  friends  ever 
afterwards.  There's  a  destiny  in  these  things,  gentlemen ; 
we  can't  help  it. 

"  In  personal  appearance,  my  uncle  was  a  trifle  shorter  than 
the  middle  size;  he  was  a  thought  stouter  too,  than  the 
ordinary  run  of  people,  and  perhaps  his  face  might  be  a 
shade  redder.  He  had  the  j oiliest  face  you  ever  saw,  gentlemen  : 
something  like  Punch,  with  a  handsomer  nose  and  chin ;  his 
eyes  were  always  twinkling  and  sparkling  with  good  humour; 
and  a  smile — not  one  of  your  unmeaning  wooden  grins,  but 
a  real,  merry,  hearty,  good-tempered  smile — was  perpetually 
on  his  countenance.  He  was  pitched  out  of  his  gig  once, 
and  knocked,  head  first,  against  a  mile-stone.  There  he  lay, 
stunned,  and  so  cut  about  the  face  with  some  gravel  which 
had  been  heaped  up  alongside  it,  that,  to  use  my  uncle's 
own  strong  expression,  if  his  mother  could  have  revisited  the 
earth,  she  wouldn't  have  known  him.  Indeed,  when  I  come 
to  think  of  the  matter,  gentlemen,  I  feel  pretty  sure  she 
wouldn't,  for  she  died  when  my  uncle  was  two  years  and  seven 
months  old,  and  I  think  it's  very  likely  that,  even  without 
the  gravel,  his  top-boots  would  have  puzzled  the  good  lady 
not  a  little :  to  say  nothing  of  his  jolly  red  face.  However, 
there  he  lay,  and  I  have  heard  my  uncle  say,  many  a  time, 
that  the  man  said  who  picked  him  up  that  he  was  smiling  as 
merrily  as  if  he  had  tumbled  out  for  a  treat,  and  that  after 
they  had  bled  him,  the  first  faint  glimmerings  of  returning 
animation,  were,  his  jumping  up  in  bed,  bursting  out  into  a 
loud  laugh,  kissing  the  young  woman  who  held  the  basin,  and 
demanding  a  mutton  chop  and  a  pickled  walnut.  He  was 
very  fond  of  pickled  walnuts,  gentlemen.  He  said  he  always 
found  that,  taken  without  vinegar,  they  relished  the  beer. 

"  My  uncle's  great  journey  was  in  the  fall  of  the  leaf,  at 


334  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

which  time  he  collected  debts,  and  took  orders,  in  the  north  : 
going  from  London  to  Edinburgh,  from  Edinburgh  to  Glasgow, 
from  Glasgow  back  to  Edinburgh,  and  thence  to  London  by 
the  smack.  You  are  to  understand  that  his  second  visit  to 
Edinburgh  was  for  his  own  pleasure.  He  used  to  go  back 
for  a  week,  just  to  look  up  his  old  friends;  and  what  with 
breakfasting  with  this  one,  lunching  with  that,  dining  with  a 
third,  and  supping  with  another,  a  pretty  tight  week  he  used 
to  make  of  it.  I  don't  know  whether  any  of  you,  gentlemen, 
ever  partook  of  a  real  substantial  hospitable  Scotch  breakfast, 
and  then  went  out  to  a  slight  lunch  of  a  bushel  of  oysters,  a 
dozen  or  so  of  bottled  ale,  and  a  noggin  or  two  of  whiskey  to 
close  up  with.  If  you  ever  did,  you  will  agree  with  me  that 
it  requires  a  pretty  strong  head  to  go  out  to  dinner  and  supper 
afterwards. 

"But,  bless  your  hearts  and  eye-brows,  all  this  sort  of 
thing  was  nothing  to  my  uncle !  He  was  so  well  seasoned, 
that  it  was  mere  child's  play.  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he 
could  see  the  Dundee  people  out,  any  day,  and  walk  home 
afterwards  without  staggering;  and  yet  the  Dundee  people 
have  as  strong  heads  and  as  strong  punch,  gentlemen,  as  you 
are  likely  to  meet  with,  between  the  poles.  I  have  heard  of  a 
Glasgow  man  and  a  Dundee  man  drinking  against  each  other 
for  fifteen  hours  at  a  sitting.  They  were  both  suffocated,  as 
nearly  as  could  be  ascertained,  at  the  same  moment,  but 
with  this  trifling  exception,  gentlemem,  they  were  not  a  bit 
the  worse  for  it. 

"  One  night,  within  four-and-twenty  hours  of  the  time  when 
he  had  settled  to  take  shipping  for  London,  my  uncle  supped 
at  the  house  of  a  very  old  friend  of  his,  a  Baillie  Mac  some- 
thing and  four  syllables  after  it,  who  lived  it  the  old  town  of 
Edinburgh.  There  were  the  baillie's  wife,  and  the  baillie's 
three  daughters,  and  the  baillie's  grown-up  son,  and  three  or 
four  stout,  bushy  eye-browed,  canny  old  Scotch  felloAvs,  that 
the  baillie  had  got  together  to  do  honour  to  my  uncle,  and 
help  to  make  merry.  It  was  a  glorious  supper,  There  were 


WHISKEY  TODDY.  335 

kippered  salmon,  and  Finnan  haddocks,  and  a  lamb's  head,  and 
a  haggis — a  celebrated  Scotch  dish,  gentlemen,  which  my 
uncle  used  to  say  always  looked  to  him,  when  it  came  to 
table,  very  much  like  a  cupid's  stomach — and  a  great  many 
other  things  besides,  that  I  forget  the  names  of,  but  very 
good  things  notwithstanding.  The  lassies  were  pretty  and 
agreeable ;  the  baillie's  Avife  was  one  of  the  best  creatures  that 
ever  lived ;  and  my  uncle  was  in  thoroughly  good  cue.  The 
consequence  of  which  was,  that  the  young  ladies  tittered  and 
giggled,  and  the  old  lady  laughed  out  loud,  and  the  baillie 
and  the  other  old  fellows  roared  till  they  were  red  in  the 
face,  the  whole  mortal  time.  I  don't  quite  recollect  how 
many  tumblers  of  whiskey  toddy  each  man  drank  after  supper ; 
but  this  I  know,  that  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
baillie's  grown-up  son  became  insensible  while  attempting  the 
first  verse  of  *  Willie  brewed  a  peck  o1  maut ; '  and  he  having 
been,  for  half  an  hour  before,  the  only  other  man  visible 
above  the  mahogany,  it  occurred  to  my  uncle  that  it  was 
almost  time  to  think  about  going :  especially  as  drinking  had 
set  in  at  seven  o'clock,  in  order  that  he  might  get  home  at  a 
decent  hour,  But,  thinking  it  might  not  be  quite  polite  to 
go  just  then,  my  uncle  voted  himself  into-  the  chair,  mixed 
another  glass,  rose  to  propose  his  own  health,  addressed 
himself  in  a  neat  and  complimentary  speech,  and  drank  the 
toast  with  great  enthusiasm.  Still  nobody  woke ;  so  my  uncle 
took  a  little  drop  more — neat  this  time,  to  prevent  the  toddy 
from  disagreeing  with  him — and,  laying  violent  hands  on  his 
hat,  sallied  forth  into  the  street. 

"  It  was  a  wild  gusty  night  when  my  uncle  closed  the 
baillie's  door,  and  settling  his  hat  firmly  on  his  head,  to 
prevent  the  wind  from  taking  it,  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  and  looking  upward,  took  a  short  survey  of  the  state 
of  the  weather.  The  clouds  were  drifting  over  the  moon  at 
their  giddiest  speed :  at  one  time  wholly  obscuring  her :  at 
another,  suffering  her  to  burst  forth  in  full  splendour  and 
shed  her  light  on  all  the  objects  around :  anon,  driving  over 


336  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

her  again,  with  increased  velocity,  and  shrouding  everything 
in  darkness.  l  Really,  this  won't  do,'  said  my  uncle,  addressing 
himself  to  the  weather,  as  if  he  felt  himself  personally  offended. 
'  This  is  not  at  all  the  kind  of  thing  for  my  voyage.  It  will 
not  do,  at  any  price,1  said  my  uncle  very  impressively. 
Having  repeated  this,  several  times,  he  recovered  his  balance 
with  some  difficulty — for  he  was  rather  giddy  with  looking 
up  into  the  sky  so  long — and  walked  merrily  on. 

"The  baillie's  house  was  in  the  Canongate,  and  my  uncle 
was  going  to  the  other  end  of  Leith  Walk,  rather  better 
than  a  mile's  journey.  On  either  side  of  him,  there  shot  up 
against  the  dark  sky,  tall  gaunt  straggling  houses,  with  time- 
stained  fronts,  and  windows  that  seemed  to  have  shared  the 
lot  of  eyes  in  mortals,  and  to  have  grown  dim  and  sunken 
with  age.  Six,  seven,  eight  stories  high,  were  the  houses ; 
story  piled  above  story,  as  children  build  with  cards — 
throwing  their  dark  shadows  over  the  roughly  paved  road, 
and  making  the  dark  night  darker.  A  few  oil  lamps  were 
scattered  at  long  distances,  but  they  only  served  to  mark  the 
dirty  entrance  to  some  narrow  close,  or  to  show  where  a 
common  stair  communicated,  by  steep  and  intricate  windings, 
with  the  various  flats  above.  Glancing  at  all  these  things 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  seen  them  too  often  before, 
to  think  them  worthy  of  much  notice  now,  my  uncle  walked 
up  the  middle  of  the  street,  with  a  thumb  in  each  waistcoat 
pocket,  indulging  from  time  to  time  in  various  snatches  of 
song,  chaunted  forth  with  such  good  will  and  spirit,  that  the 
quiet  honest  folk  started  from  their  first  sleep  and  lay 
trembling  in  bed  till  the  sound  died  away  in  the  distance ; 
when,  satisfying  themselves  that  it  was  only  some  drunken 
ne'er-do-weel  finding  his  way  home,  they  covered  themselves 
up  warm  and  fell  asleep  again. 

"I  am  particular  in  describing  how  my  uncle  walked  up 
the  middle  of  the  street,  with  his  thumbs  in  his  waistcoat 
pockets,  gentlemen,  because,  as  he  often  used  to  say  (and  with 
great  reason  too)  there  is  nothing  at  all  extraordinary  in  this 


AULD   REEKIE.  337 

story,  unless  you  distinctly  understand  at  the  beginning  that 
he  was  not  by  any  means  of  a  marvellous  or  romantic  turn. 

"  Gentlemen,  my  uncle  walked  on  with  his  thumbs  in  his 
waistcoat  pockets,  taking  the  middle  of  the  street  to  himself, 
and  singing,  now  a  verse  of  a  love  song,  and  then  a  verse  of 
a  drinking  one,  and  when  he  was  tired  of  both,  whistling 
melodiously,  until  he  reached  the  North  Bridge,  which,  at  this 
point,  connects  the  old  and  new  towns  of  Edinburgh.  Here 
he  stopped  for  a  minute,  to  look  at  the  strange  irregular 
clusters  of  lights  piled  one  above  the  other,  and  twinkling 
afar  off  so  high,  that  they  looked  like  stars,  gleaming  from 
the  castle  walls  on  the  one  side  and  the  Calton  Hill  on  the 
other,  as  if  they  illuminated  veritable  castles  in  the  air; 
while  the  old  picturesque  town  slept  heavily  on,  in  gloom 
and  darkness  below:  its  palace  and  chapel  of  Holyrood, 
guarded  day  and  night,  as  a  friend  of  my  uncle's  used  to  say, 
by  old  Arthur's  Seat,  towering,  surly  and  dark,  like  some 
gruff  genius,  over  the  ancient  city  he  has  watched  so  long.  I 
say,  gentlemen,  my  uncle  stopped  here,  for  a  minute,  to  look 
about  him ;  and  then,  paying  a  compliment  to  the  weather 
which  had  a  little  cleared  up,  though  the  moon  was  sinking, 
walked  on  again,  as  royally  as  before ;  keeping  the  middle  of 
the  road  with  great  dignity,  and  looking  as  if  he  would  very 
much  like  to  meet  with  somebody  who  would  dispute  posses- 
sion of  it  with  him.  There  was  nobody  at  all  disposed  to 
contest  the  point,  as  it  happened ;  and  so,  on  he  went,  with 
his  thumbs  in  his  waistcoat  pockets,  like  a  lamb. 

"  When  my  uncle  reached  the  end  of  Leith  Walk,  he  had 
to  cross  a  pretty  large  piece  of  waste  ground  which  separated 
him  from  a  short  street  which  he  had  to  turn  down,  to  go 
direct  to  his  lodging.  Now,  in  this  piece  of  waste  ground, 
there  was,  at  that  time,  an  enclosure  belonging  to  some 
wheelwright  who  contracted  with  the  Post-office  for  the 
purchase  of  old  worn-out  mail  coaches ;  and  my  uncle,  being 
very  fond  of  coaches,  old,  young,  or  middle-aged,  all  at  once 
took  it  into  his  head  to  step  out  of  his  road  for  no  other 

VOL.  IL  z 


338  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

purpose  than  to  peep  between  the  palings  at  these  mails — 
about  a  dozen  of  which,  he  remembered  to  have  seen,  crowded 
together  in  a  very  forlorn  and  dismantled  state,  inside.  My 
uncle  was  a  very  enthusiastic,  emphatic  sort  of  person, 
gentlemen ;  so,  finding  that  he  could  not  obtain  a  good  peep 
between  the  palings,  he  got  over  them,  and  sitting  himself 
quietly  down  on  an  old  axletree,  began  to  contemplate  the 
mail  coaches  with  a  deal  of  gravity. 

"  There  might  be  a  dozen  of  them,  or  there  might  be  more 
— my  uncle  wras  never  quite  certain  on  this  point,  and  being 
a  man  of  very  scrupulous  veracity  about  numbers,  didn't  like 
to  say — but  there  they  stood,  all  huddled  together  in  the  most 
desolate  condition  imaginable.  The  doors  had  been  torn 
from  their  hinges  and  removed ;  the  linings  had  been  stripped 
off:  only  a  shred  hanging  here  and  there  by  a  rusty  nail ;  the 
lamps  were  gone,  the  poles  had  long  since  vanished,  the 
iron-work  was  rusty,  the  paint  was  worn  away;  the  wind 
whistled  through  the  chinks  in  the  bare  wood  work;  and  the 
rain,  which  had  collected  on  the  roofs,  fell,  drop  by  drop, 
into  the  insides  with  a  hollow  and  melancholy  sound.  They 
were  the  decaying  skeletons  of  departed  mails,  and  in  that 
lonely  place,  at  that  time  of  night,  they  looked  chill  and 
dismal. 

"  My  uncle  rested  his  head  upon  his  hands,  and  thought  of 
the  busy  bustling  people  who  had  rattled  about,  years  before, 
in  the  old  coaches,  and  were  now  as  silent  and  changed ;  he 
thought  of  the  numbers  of  people  to  whom  one  of  those  crazy 
mouldering  vehicles  had  borne,  night  after  night,  for  many 
years,  and  through  all  weathers,  the  anxiously  expected 
intelligence,  the  eagerly  looked-for  remittance,  the  promised 
assurance  of  health  and  safety,  the  sudden  announcement  of 
sickness  and  death.  The  merchant,  the  lover,  the  wife,  the 
widow,  the  mother,  the  schoolboy,  the  very  child  who  tottered 
to  the  door  at  the  postman's  knock — how  had  they  all  looked 
forward  to  the  arrival  of  the  old  coach.  And  where  were 
they  all  now ! 


OLD  MAIL  COACHES.  339 

"Gentlemen,  my  uncle  used  to  say  that  he  thought  all 
this  at  the  time,  but  I  rather  suspect  he  learnt  it  out  of  some 
book  afterwards,  for  he  distinctly  stated  that  he  fell  into  a 
kind  of  doze,  as  he  sat  on  the  old  axletree  looking  at  the 
decayed  mail  coaches,  and  that  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by 
some  deep  church-bell  striking  two.  Now,  my  uncle  was  never 
a  fast  thinker,  and  if  he  had  thought  all  these  things,  I 
am  quite  certain  it  would  have  taken  him  till  full  half-past 
two  o'clock,  at  the  very  least.  I  am,  therefore,  decidedly  of 
opinion,  gentlemen,  that  my  uncle  fell  into  the  kind  of  doze, 
without  having  thought  about  any  thing  at  all. 

"Be  this,  as  it  may,  a  church  bell  struck  two.  My  uncle 
woke,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  jumped  up  in  astonishment. 

"  In  one  instant  after  the  clock  struck  two,  the  whole  of 
this  deserted  and  quiet  spot  had  become  a  scene  of  most 
extraordinary  life  and  animation.  The  mail  coach  doors  were 
on  their  hinges,  the  lining  was  replaced,  the  iron-work  was 
as  good  as  new,  the  paint  was  restored,  the  lamps  were  alight, 
cushions  and  great  coats  were  on  every  coach  box,  porters 
were  thrusting  parcels  into  every  boot,  guards  were  stowing 
away  letter-bags,  hostlers  were  dashing  pails  of  water  against 
the  renovated  wheels ;  numbers  of  men  were  rushing  about, 
fixing  poles  into  every  coach ;  passengers  arrived,  portmanteaus 
were  handed  up,  horses  were  put  to ;  in  short,  it  was  perfectly 
clear  that  every  mail  there,  was  to  be  off  directly.  Gentlemen, 
my  uncle  opened  his  eyes  so  wide  at  all  this,  that,  to  the  very 
last  moment  of  his  life,  he  used  to  wonder  how  it  fell  out 
that  he  had  ever  been  able  to  shut  ""em  again. 

" '  Now  then ! '  said  a  voice,  as  my  uncle  felt  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  'You're  booked  for  one  inside.  You'd  better 
get  in.' 

" '  /  booked  ! '  said  my  uncle,  turning  round. 

" '  Yes,  certainly.' 

"My  uncle,  gentlemen,  could  say  nothing;  he  was  so  very 
much  astonished.  The  queerest  thing  of  all,  was,  that  although 
there  was  such  a  crowd  of  persons,  and  although  fresh  faces 


340  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

were  pouring  in,  every  moment,  there  was  no  telling  where 
they  came  from.  They  seemed  to  start  up,  in  some  strange 
manner,  from  the  ground,  or  the  air,  and  disappear  in  the 
same  way.  When  a  porter  had  put  his  luggage  in  the  coach, 
and  received  his  fare,  he  turned  round  and  was  gone ;  and 
before  my  uncle  had  well  begun  to  wonder  what  had  become 
of  him,  half-a-dozen  fresh  ones  started  up,  and  staggered 
along  under  the  weight  of  parcels  which  seemed  big  enough 
to  crush  them.  The  passengers  were  all  dressed  so  oddly  too ! 
Large,  broad-skirted  laced  coats  with  great  cuffs  and  no 
collars;  and  wigs,  gentlemen, — great  formal  wigs  with  a  tie 
behind.  My  uncle  could  make  nothing  of  it. 

" '  Now,  are  you  going  to  get  in  ? '  said  the  person  who  had 
addressed  my  uncle  before.  He  was  dressed  as  a  mail  guard, 
with  a  wig  on  his  head  and  most  enormous  cuft's  to  his  coat, 
and  had  a  lantern  in  one  hand,  and  a  huge  blunderbuss  in 
the  other,  which  he  was  going  to  stow  away  in  his  little  arm- 
chest.  'Are  you  going  to  get  in,  Jack  Martin?'  said  the 
guard,  holding  the  lantern  to  my  uncle's  face. 

" '  Hallo ! '  said  my  uncle,  falling  back  a  step  or  two. 
'  That's  familiar  ! n 

" '  It's  so  on  the  way-bill,'  replied  the  guard. 

"'Isn't  there  a  "Mister"  before  it?'  said  my  uncle.  For 
he  felt,  gentlemen,  that  for  a  guard  he  didn't  know,  to  call 
him  Jack  Martin,  was  a  liberty  which  the  Post-office  wouldn't 
have  sanctioned  if  they  had  known  it. 

"'No,  there  is  not,'  rejoined  the  guard  coolly. 

"  '  Is  the  fare  paid  ? '  inquired  my  uncle. 

" '  Of  course  it  is,'  rejoined  the  guard. 

" '  It  is,  is  it  ?  said  my  uncle.  '  Then  here  goes  !  Which 
coach  ? ' 

"'This,'  said  the  guard,  pointing  to  an  old-fashioned 
Edinburgh  and  London  Mail,  which  had  the  steps  down,  and 
the  door  open.  '  Stop !  Here  are  the  other  passengers.  Let 
them  get  in  first.' 

"As  the  guard  spoke,  there  all  at  once  appeared,  right  in 


A  FAIR  PASSENGER.  341 

front  of  my  uncle,  a  young  gentleman  in  a  powdered  wig,  and 
a  sky-blue  coat  trimmed  with  silver,  made  very  full  and  broad 
in  the  skirts,  which  were  lined  with  buckram.  Tiggin  and 
Welps  were  in  the  printed  calico  and  waistcoat  piece  line, 
gentlemen,  so  my  uncle  knew  all  the  materials  at  once.  He 
wore  knee  breeches,  and  a  kind  of  leggings  rolled  up  over  his 
silk  stockings,  and  shoes  with  buckles;  he  had  ruffles  at  his 
wrists,  a  three-cornered  hat  on  his  head,  and  a  long  taper 
sword  by  his  side.  The  flaps  of  his  waistcoat  came  half  way 
down  his  thighs,  and  the  ends  of  his  cravat  reached  to  his 
waist.  He  stalked  gravely  to  the  coach-door,  pulled  off  his 
hat,  and  held  it  above  his  head  at  arm's  length:  cocking 
his  little  finger  in  the  air  at  the  same  time,  as  some  affected 
people  do,  when  they  take  a  cup  of  tea.  Then  he  drew  his 
feet  together,  and  made  a  low  grave  bow,  and  then  put  out 
his  left  hand.  My  uncle  was  just  going  to  step  forward,  and 
shake  it  heartily,  when  he  perceived  that  these  attentions 
were  directed,  not  towards  him,  but  to  a  young  lady  who 
just  then  appeared  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  attired  in  an  old- 
fashioned  green  velvet  dress  with  a  long  waist  and  stomacher. 
She  had  no  bonnet  on  her  head,  gentlemen,  which  was  muffled 
in  a  black  silk  hood,  but  she  looked  round  for  an  instant  as 
she  prepared  to  get  into  the  coach,  and  such  a  beautiful  face 
as  she  disclosed,  my  uncle  had  never  seen— not  even  in  a 
picture.  She  got  into  the  coach,  holding  up  her  dress  with 
one  hand ;  and,  as  my  uncle  always  said  with  a  round  oath, 
when  he  told  the  story,  he  wouldn't  have  believed  it  possible 
that  legs  and  feet  could  have  been  brought  to  such  a  state 
of  perfection  unless  he  had  seen  them  with  his  own  eyes. 

"But,  in  this  one  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  face,  my  uncle 
saw  that  the  young  lady  cast  an  imploring  look  upon  him, 
and  that  she  appeared  terrified  and  distressed.  He  noticed, 
too,  that  the  young  fellow  in  the  powdered  wig,  notwithstand- 
ing his  show  of  gallantry,  which  was  all  very  fine  and  grand, 
clasped  her  tight  by  the  wrist  when  she  got  in,  and  followed 
himself  immediately  afterwards.  An  uncommonly  ill-looking 


34,2  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

fellow,  in  a  close  brown  wig  and  a  plum-coloured  suit,  wearing 
a  very  large  sword,  and  boots  up  to  his  hips,  belonged  to 
the  party ;  and  when  he  sat  himself  down  next  to  the  young 
lady,  who  shrunk  into  a  corner  at  his  approach,  my  uncle 
was  confirmed  in  his  original  impression  that  something  dark 
and  mysterious  was  going  forward,  or,  as  he  always  said 
himself,  that  *  there  was  a  screw  loose  somewhere.'  It's  quite 
surprising  how  quickly  he  made  up  his  mind  to  help  the 
lady  at  any  peril,  if  she  needed  help. 

" '  Death  and  lightning ! '  exclaimed  the  young  gentleman, 
laying  his  hand  upon  his  sword  as  my  uncle  entered  the  coach. 

" « Blood  and  thunder ! '  roared  the  other  gentleman.  With 
this,  he  whipped  his  sword  out,  and  made  a  lunge  at  my 
uncle  without  further  ceremony.  My  uncle  had  no  weapon 
about  him,  but  with  great  dexterity  he  snatched  the  ill- 
looking  gentleman's  three-cornered  hat  from  his  head,  and, 
receiving  the  point  of  his  sword  right  through  the  crown, 
squeezed  the  sides  together,  and  held  it  tight. 

" '  Pink  him  behind ! '  cried  the  ill-looking  gentleman  to 
his  companion,  as  he  struggled  to  regain  his  sword. 

" '  He  had  better  not,1  cried  my  uncle,  displaying  the  heel 
of  one  of  his  shoes,  in  a  threatening  manner.  '  Til  kick  his 
brains  out,  if  he  has  any,  or  fracture  his  skull  if  he  hasn't.1 
Exerting  all  his  strength,  at  this  moment,  my  uncle  wrenched 
the  ill-looking  man's  sword  from  his  grasp,  and  flung  it  clean 
out  of  the  coach-window  :  upon  which  the  younger  gentleman 
vociferated  '  Death  and  lightning ! 1  again,  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  in  a  very  fierce  manner,  but 
didn't  draw  it.  Perhaps,  gentlemen,  as  my  uncle  used  to  say 
with  a  smile,  perhaps  he  was  afraid  of  alarming  the  lady. 

"'Now, gentlemen,'  said  my  uncle,  taking  his  seat  deliberately, 
'I  don't  want  to  have  any  death,  with  or  without  lightning, 
in  a  lady's  presence,  and  we  have  had  quite  blood  and 
thundering  enough  for  one  journey ;  so,  if  you  please,  we'll 
sit  in  our  places  like  quiet  insides.  Here,  guard,  pick  up 
that  gentleman's  carving-knife.1 


COOLNESS  OF  THE  BAGMAN'S  UNCLE.     343 

"  As  quickly  as  my  uncle  said  the  words,  the  guard  appeared 
at  the  coach-window,  with  the  gentleman's  sword  in  his  hand. 
He  held  up  his  lantern,  and  looked  earnestly  in  my  uncle's 
face,  as  he  handed  it  in :  when,  by  its  light,  my  uncle  saw,  to 
his  great  surprise,  that  an  immense  crowd  of  mail-coach  guards 
swarmed  round  the  window,  every  one  of  whom  had  his  eyes 
earnestly  fixed  upon  him  too.  He  had  never  seen  such  a  sea  of 
white  faces,  red  bodies,  and  earnest  eyes,  in  all  his  born  days. 

" '  This  is  the  strangest  sort  of  thing  I  ever  had  anything 
to  do  with,1  thought  my  uncle ;  '  allow  me  to  return  you  your 
hat,  sir."1 

"'The  ill-looking  gentleman  received  his  three-cornered 
hat  in  silence,  looked  at  the  hole  in  the  middle  with  an 
inquiring  air,  and  finally  stuck  it  on  the  top  of  his  wig  with 
a  solemnity  the  effect  of  which  was  a  trifle  impaired  by  his 
sneezing  violently  at  the  moment,  and  jerking  it  off  again. 

"  *  All  right ! '  cried  the  guard  with  the  lantern,  mounting 
into  his  little  seat  behind.  Away  they  went.  My  uncle 
peeped  out  of  the  coach-window  as  they  emerged  from  the 
yard,  and  observed  that  the  other  mails,  with  coachmen, 
guards,  horses,  and  passengers,  complete,  were  driving  round 
and  round  in  circles,  at  a  slow  trot  of  about  five  miles  an 
hour.  My  uncle  burnt  with  indignation,  gentlemen.  As  a 
commercial  man,  he  felt  that  the  mail  bags  were  not  to  be 
trifled  with,  and  he  resolved  to  memorialise  the  Post-office 
on  the  subject,  the  very  instant  he  reached  London. 

"At  present,  however,  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with  the 
young  lady  who  sat  in  the  farthest  comer  of  the  coach,  with 
her  face  muffled  closely  in  her  hood ;  the  gentleman  with  the 
sky-blue  coat  sitting  opposite  to  her;  the  other  man  in  the 
plum-coloured  suit,  by  her  side  ;  and  both  watching  her  intently. 
If  she  so  much  as  rustled  the  folds  of  her  hood,  he  could 
hear  the  ill-looking  man  clap  his  hand  upon  his  sword,  and 
could  tell  by  the  other's  breathing  (it  was  so  dark  he  couldn't 
see  his  face)  that  he  was  looking  as  big  as  if  he  were  going 
to  devour  her  at  a  mouthful.  This  roused  my  uncle  more  and 


344  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

more,  and  he  resolved,  come  what  come  might,  to  see  the  end 
of  it.  He  had  a  great  admiration  for  bright  eyes,  and  sweet 
faces,  and  pretty  legs  and  feet ;  in  short,  he  was  fond  of  the 
whole  sex.  It  runs  in  our  family,  gentlemen — so  am  I. 

'  Many  were  the  devices  which  my  uncle  practised,  to  attract 
the  lady's  attention,  or  at  all  events,  to  engage  the  mysterious 
gentlemen  in  conversation.  They  were  all  in  vain;  the 
gentlemen  wouldn't  talk,  and  the  lady  didn't  dare.  He  thrust 
his  head  out  of  the  coach-window  at  intervals,  and  bawled  out 
to  know  why  they  didn't  go  faster?  But  he  called  till  he 
was  hoarse;  nobody  paid  the  least  attention  to  him.  He 
leant  back  in  the  coach,  and  thought  of  the  beautiful  face, 
and  the  feet  and  legs.  This  answered  better ;  it  whiled  away 
the  time,  and  kept  him  from  wondering  where  he  was  going, 
and  how  it  was  that  he  found  himself  in  such  an  odd  situation. 
Not  that  this  would  have  worried  him  much,  any  way — he 
was  a  mighty  free  and  easy,  roving,  devil-may-care  sort  of 
person,  was  my  uncle,  gentlemen. 

"  All  of  a  sudden  the  coach  stopped.  *  Hallo ! '  said  my 
uncle,  'What's  in  the  wind  now?1 

"'Alight  here,'  said  the  guard,  letting  down  the  steps. 

"  *  Here  ! '  cried  my  uncle. 

"'Here,'  rejoined  the  guard. 

" '  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,'  said  my  uncle. 

'"Very  well,  then  stop  where  you  are,'  said  the  guard. 

" '  I  will,'  said  my  uncle. 

" '  Do,'  said  the  guard. 

"The  other  passengers  had  regarded  this  colloquy  with 
great  attention,  and,  finding  that  my  uncle  was  determined 
not  to  alight,  the  younger  man  squeezed  past  him,  to  hand 
the  lady  out.  At  this  moment,  the  ill-looking  man  was 
inspecting  the  hole  in  the  crown  of  his  three-cornered  hat. 
As  the  young  lady  brushed  past,  she  dropped  one  of  her 
gloves  into  my  uncle's  hand,  and  softly  whispered,  with  her 
lips  so  close  to  his  face  that  he  felt  her  warm  breath  on  his 
nose,  the  single  word  '  Help  ! '  Gentlemen,  my  uncle  leaped 


GHOSTLY  TRAVELLING.  345 

out  of  the  coach  at  once,  with  such  violence  that  it  rocked 
on  the  springs  again. 

"  <  Oh  !  YouVe  thought  better  of  it,  have  you  ? '  said  the 
guard  when  he  saw  my  uncle  standing  on  the  ground. 

"  My  uncle  looked  at  the  guard  for  a  few  seconds,  in  some 
doubt  whether  it  wouldn't  be  better  to  wrench  his  blunderbuss 
from  him,  fire  it  in  the  face  of  the  man  with  the  big  sword, 
knock  the  rest  of  the  company  over  the  head  with  the  stock, 
snatch  up  the  young  lady,  and  go  off  in  the  smoke.  On 
second  thoughts,  however,  he  abandoned  this  plan,  as  being  a 
shade  too  melodramatic  in  the  execution,  and  followed  the 
two  mysterious  men,  who,  keeping  the  lady  between  them, 
were  now  entering  an  old  house  in  front  of  which  the  coach 
had  stopped.  They  turned  into  the  passage,  and  my  uncle 
followed. 

"  Of  all  the  ruinous  and  desolate  places  my  uncle  had  ever 
beheld,  this  was  the  most  so.  It  looked  as  if  it  had  once 
been  a  large  house  of  entertainment ;  but  the  roof  had  fallen 
in,  in  many  places,  and  the  stairs  were  steep,  rugged,  and 
broken.  There  was  a  huge  fire-place  in  the  room  into  which 
they  walked,  and  the  chimney  was  blackened  with  smoke ; 
but  no  warm  blaze  lighted  it  up  now.  The  white  feathery 
dust  of  burnt  wood  was  still  strewed  over  the  hearth,  but  the 
stove  was  cold,  and  all  was  dark  and  gloomy. 

"'Well,1  said  my  uncle,  as  he  looked  about  him,  'A  mail 
travelling  at  the  rate  of  six  miles  and  a  half  an  hour,  and 
stopping  for  an  indefinite  time  at  such  a  hole  as  this,  is  rather 
an  irregular  sort  of  proceeding,  I  fancy.  This  shall  be  made 
known.  I'll  write  to  the  papers."* 

"  My  uncle  said  this  in  a  pretty  loud  voice,  and  in  an  open 
unreserved  sort  of  manner,  with  the  view  of  engaging  the  two 
strangers  in  conversation  if  he  could.  But,  neither  of  them 
took  any  more  notice  of  him  than  whispering  to  each  other, 
and  scowling  at  him  as  they  did  so.  The  lady  was  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  room,  and  once  she  ventured  to  wave  her 
hand,  as  if  beseeching  my  uncle's  assistance. 


346  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"At  length  the  two  strangers  advanced  a  little,  and  the 
conversation  began  in  earnest. 

" '  You  don't  know  this  is  a  private  room  ;  I  suppose,  fellow  ? 1 
said  the  gentleman  in  sky-blue. 

" '  No,  I  do  not,  fellow,1  rejoined  my  uncle.  '  Only  if  this 
is  a  private  room  specially  ordered  for  the  occasion,  I 
should  think  the  public  room  must  be  a  "very  comfortable 
one ; '  with  this  my  uncle  sat  himself  down  in  a  high-backed 
chair,  and  took  such  an  accurate  measure  of  the  gentleman, 
with  his  eyes,  that  Tiggin  and  Welps  could  have  supplied  him 
with  printed  calico  for  a  suit,  and  not  an  inch  too  much  or 
too  little,  from  that  estimate  alone. 

" '  Quit  this  room/  said  both  the  men  together,  grasping 
their  swords. 

" '  Eh  ? '  said  my  uncle,  not  at  all  appearing  to  comprehend 
their  meaning. 

" '  Quit  the  room,  or  you  are  a  dead  man,"1  said  the  ill- 
looking  fellow  with  the  large  sword,  drawing  it  at  the  same 
time  and  flourishing  it  in  the  air. 

" '  Down  with  him ! '  cried  the  gentleman  in  sky-blue, 
drawing  his  sword  also,  and  falling  back  two  or  three  yards. 
*  Down  with  him  ! '  The  lady  gave  a  loud  scream. 

"Now,  my  uncle  was  always  remarkable  for  great  boldness, 
and  great  presence  of  mind.  All  the  time  that  he  had 
appeared  so  indifferent  to  what  was  going  on,  he  had  been 
looking  slyly  about,  for  some  missile  or  weapon  of  defence, 
and  at  the  very  instant  when  the  swords  were  drawn,  he  espied, 
standing  in  the  chimney  corner,  an  old  basket-hilted  rapier 
in  a  rusty  scabbard.  At  one  bound,  my  uncle  caught  it  in 
his  hand,  drew  it,  flourished  it  gallantly  above  his  head, 
called  aloud  to  the  lady  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  hurled  the 
chair  at  the  man  in  sky-blue,  and  the  scabbard  at  the  man 
in  plum-colour,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  confusion,  fell 
upon  them  both,  pell-mell 

"Gentlemen,  there  is  an  old  story — none  the  worse  for 
being  true — regarding  a  fine  young  Irish  gentleman,  who 


A   NOISY    COMBAT.  347 

being  asked  if  he  could  play  the  fiddle,  replied  he  had  no 
doubt  he  could,  but  he  couldn't  exactly  say,  for  certain, 
because  he  had  never  tried.  This  is  not  inapplicable  to  my 
uncle  and  his  fencing.  He  had  never  had  a  sword  in  his  hand 
before,  except  once  when  he  played  Richard  the  Third  at  a 
private  theatre :  upon  which  occasion  it  was  arranged  with 
Richmond  that  he  was  to  be  run  through,  from  behind, 
without  showing  fight  at  all.  But  here  he  was,  cutting  and 
slashing  with  two  experienced  swordsmen:  thrusting  and 
guarding  and  poking  and  slicing,  and  acquitting  himself  in 
the  most  manful  and  dexterous  manner  possible,  although  up 
to  that  time  he  had  never  been  aware  that  he  had  the  least 
notion  of  the  science.  It  only  shows  how  true  the  old  saying 
is,  that  a  man  never  knows  what  he  can  do,  till  he  tries, 
gentlemen. 

"  The  noise  of  the  combat  was  terrific ;  each  of  the  three 
combatants  swearing  like  troopers,  and  their  swords  clashing 
with  as  much  noise  as  if  all  the  knives  and  steels  in  Newport 
market  were  rattling  together,  at  the  same  time.  When  it 
was  at  its  very  height,  the  lady  (to  encourage  my  uncle  most 
probably)  withdrew  her  hood  entirely  from  her  face,  and 
disclosed  a  countenance  of  such  dazzling  beauty,  that  he 
would  have  fought  against  fifty  men,  to  win  one  smile  from 
it,  and  die.  He  had  done  wonders  before,  but  now  he  began 
to  powder  away  like  a  raving  mad  giant. 

"At  this  very  moment,  the  gentleman  in  sky-blue  turning 
round,  and  seeing  the  young  lady  with  her  face  uncovered, 
vented  an  exclamation  of  rage  and  jealousy,  and,  turning  his 
weapon  against  her  beautiful  bosom,  pointed  a  thrust  at  her 
heart,  which  caused  my  uncle  to  utter  a  cry  of  apprehension 
that  made  the  building  ring.  The  lady  stepped  lightly  aside, 
and  snatching  the  young  man's  sword  from  his  hand,  before 
he  had  recovered  his  balance,  drove  him  to  the  wall,  and 
running  it  through  him,  and  the  panelling,  up  to  the  very 
hilt,  pinned  him  there,  hard  and  fast.  It  was  a  splendid 
example.  My  uncle,  with  a  loud  shout  of  triumph,  and  a 


348  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

strength  that  was  irresistible,  made  his  adversary  retreat  in 
the  same  direction,  and  plunging  the  old  rapier  into  the  very 
centre  of  a  large  red  flower  in  the  pattern  of  his  waistcoat, 
nailed  him  beside  his  friend  ;  there  they  both  stood,  gentlemen, 
jerking  their  arms  and  legs  about,  in  agony,  like  the  toy-shop 
figures  that  are  moved  by  a  piece  of  packthread.  My  uncle 
always  said,  afterwards,  that  this  was  one  of  the  surest  means 
he  knew  of,  for  disposing  of  an  enemy ;  but  it  was  liable  to 
one  objection  on  the  ground  of  expense,  inasmuch  as  it 
involved  the  loss  of  a  sword  for  every  man  disabled. 

"  *  The  mail,  the  mail ! '  cried  the  lady,  running  up  to  my 
uncle  and  throwing  her  beautiful  arms  round  his  neck ;  *  we 
may  yet  escape.' 

"'May!"1  cried  my  uncle;  'why,  my  dear,  there's  nobody 
else  to  kill,  is  there  ? '  My  uncle  was  rather  disappointed, 
gentlemen,  for  he  thought  a  little  quiet  bit  of  love-making 
would  be  agreeable  after  the  slaughtering,  if  it  were  only  to 
change  the  subject. 

"'We  have  not  an  instant  to  lose  here,'  said  the  young 
lady.  '  He  (pointing  to  the  young  gentleman  in  sky-blue) 
is  the  only  son  of  the  powerful  Marquess  of  Filletoville.' 

"  *  Well,  then,  my  dear,  I'm  afraid  he'll  never  come  to  the 
title,'  said  my  uncle,  looking  coolly  at  the  young  gentleman 
as  he  stood  fixed  up  against  the  wall,  in  the  cockchafer  fashion 
I  have  described.  You  have  cut  off  the  entail,  my  love.' 

"'I  have  been  torn  from  my  home  and  friends  by  these 
villains,'  said  the  young  lady,  her  features  glowing  with 
indignation.  'That  wretch  would  have  married  me  by 
violence  in  another  hour.' 

" '  Confound  his  impudence ! '  said  my  uncle,  bestowing  a 
very  contemptuous  look  on  the  dying  heir  of  Filletoville. 

" '  As  you  may  guess  from  what  you  have  seen,'  said  the 
young  lady,  'the  party  were  prepared  to  murder  me  if  I 
appealed  to  any  one  for  assistance.  If  their  accomplices  find 
us  here,  we  are  lost.  Two  minutes  hence  may  be  too  late. 
The  mail ! '  With  these  words,  overpowered  by  her  feelings, 


GALLANTRY  OF  THE  BAGMAN'S   UNCLE.    349 

and  the  exertion  of  sticking  the  young  Marquess  of  Filletoville, 
she  sunk  into  my  uncle's  arms.  My  uncle  caught  her  up, 
and  bore  her  to  the  house-door.  There  stood  the  mail,  with 
four  long-tailed,  flowing-maned,  black  horses,  ready  harnessed ; 
but  no  coachman,  no  guard,  no  hostler  even,  at  the  horses1 
heads. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  hope  I  do  no  injustice  to  my  uncle's  memory, 
when  I  express  my  opinion,  that  although  he  was  a  bachelor, 
he  had  held  some  ladies  in  his  arms,  before  this  time ;  I 
believe  indeed,  that  he  had  rather  a  habit  of  kissing  barmaids ; 
and  I  know,  that  in  one  or  two  instances,  he  had  been  seen 
by  credible  witnesses,  to  hug  a  landlady  in  a  very  perceptible 
manner.  I  mention  the  circumstance,  to  show  what  a  very 
uncommon  sort  of  person  this  beautiful  young  lady  must 
have  been,  to  have  affected  my  uncle  in  the  way  she  did;  he 
used  to  say,  that  as  her  long  dark  hair  trailed  over  his  arm, 
and  her  beautiful  dark  eyes  fixed  themselves  upon  his  face 
when  she  recovered,  he  felt  so  strange  and  nervous  that  his 
legs  trembled  beneath  him.  But,  who  can  look  in  a  sweet 
soft  pair  of  dark  eyes,  without  feeling  queer?  /  can't, 
gentlemen.  I  am  afraid  to  look  at  some  eyes  I  know,  and 
that's  the  truth  of  it. 

" '  You  will  never  leave  me,'  murmured  the  young  lady. 
"'Never,'  said  my  uncle.     And  he  meant  it  too. 
"'My  dear  preserver!'  exclaimed   the  young  lady.     'My 
dear,  kind,  brave  preserver ! ' 

" '  Don't,'  said  my  uncle,  interrupting  her. 
" '  Why  ? '  inquired  the  young  lady. 

"'Because  your  mouth  looks  so  beautiful  when  you  speak,' 
rejoined  my  uncle,  'that  I'm  afraid  I  shall  be  rude  enough 
to  kiss  it.' 

"The  young  lady  put  up  her  hand  as  if  to  caution  my 
uncle  not  to  do  so,  and  said — no,  she  didn't  say  anything — 
she  smiled.  When  you  are  looking  at  a  pair  of  the  most 
delicious  lips  in  the  world,  and  see  them  gently  break  into  a 
roguish  smile — if  you  are  very  near  them,  and  nobody  else 


350  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

by — you  cannot  better  testify  your  admiration  of  their 
beautiful  form  and  colour  than  by  kissing  them  at  once. 
My  uncle  did  so,  and  I  honour  him  for  it. 

"'Hark!'  cried  the  young  lady,  starting.  'The  noise  of 
wheels  and  horses  ! ' 

" '  So  it  is,1  said  my  uncle,  listening.  He  had  a  good  ear 
for  wheels,  and  the  trampling  of  hoofs ;  but  there  appeared 
to  be  so  many  horses  and  carriages  rattling  towards  them, 
from  a  distance,  that  it  was  impossible  to  form  a  guess  at 
their  number.  The  sound  was  like  that  of  fifty  breaks,  with 
six  blood  cattle  in  each 

"  *  We  are  pursued ! '  cried  the  young  lady,  clasping  her 
hands.  *  We  are  pursued.  I  have  no  hope  but  in  you  ! ' 

"There  was  such  an  expression  of  terror  in  her  beautiful 
face,  that  my  uncle  made  up  his  mind  at  once.  He  lifted 
her  into  the  coach,  told  her  not  to  be  frightened,  pressed 
his  lips  to  hers  once  more,  and  then  advising  her  to  draw  up 
the  window  to  keep  the  cold  air  out,  mounted  to  the  box. 
" '  Stay,  love,1  cried  the  young  lady. 

" '  What's  the  matter  ? 1  said  my  uncle,  from  the  coach-box. 
"'I  want  to  speak  to  you,1  said  the  young  lady;  'only  a 
word.     Only  one  word,  dearest.1 

"'Must  I  get  down?'  inquired  my  uncle.  The  lady  made 
no  answer,  but  she  smiled  again.  Such  a  smile,  gentlemen ! 
It  beat  the  other  one,  all  to  nothing.  My  uncle  descended 
from  his  perch  in  a  twinkling. 

" '  What  is  it,  my  dear  ? '  said  my  uncle,  looking  in  at  the 
coach  window.     The  lady  happened  to  bend  forward  at  the 
same  time,  and  my  uncle  thought  she  looked  more  beautiful 
than  she  had  done  yet.     He  was  very  close  to  her  just  then, 
gentlemen,  so  he  really  ought  to  know. 
" '  What  is  it,  my  dear  ? '  said  my  uncle. 
" '  Will  you  never  love  any  one  but  me ;  never  marry  any 
one  beside?'  said  the  young  lady. 

"  My  uncle  swore  a  great  oath  that  he  never  would 
marry  any  body  else,  and  the  young  lady  drew  in  her  head, 


MAIL-COACH  GHOSTS.  351 

and  pulled  up  the  window.  He  jumped  upon  the  box, 
squared  his  elbows,  adjusted  the  ribands,  seized  the  whip 
which  lay  on  the  roof,  gave  one  flick  to  the  off  leader,  and 
away  went  the  four  long-tailed  flowing-maned  black  horses, 
at  fifteen  good  English  miles  an  hour,  with  the  old  mail 
coach  behind  them.  Whew  !  How  they  tore  along ! 

"The  noise  behind  grew  louder.  The  faster  the  old  mail 
went,  the  faster  came  the  pursuers — men,  horses,  dogs,  were 
leagued  in  the  pursuit.  The  noise  was  frightful,  but,  above 
all,  rose  the  voice  of  the  young  lady,  urging  my  uncle  on, 
and  shrieking,  *  Faster !  Faster ! ' 

"They  whirled  past  the  dark  trees,  as  feathers  would  be 
swept  before  a  hurricane.  Houses,  gates,  churches,  haystacks, 
objects  of  every  kind  they  shot  by,  with  a  velocity  and  noise 
like  roaring  waters  suddenly  let  loose.  Still  the  noise  of 
pursuit  grew  louder,  and  still  my  uncle  could  hear  the  young 
lady  wildly  screaming,  '  Faster !  Faster ! ' 

"  My  uncle  plied  whip  and  rein,  and  the  horses  flew  onward 
till  they  were  white  with  foam ;  and  yet  the  noise  behind 
increased  ;  and  yet  the  young  lady  cried  '  Faster !  Faster ! ' 
My  uncle  gave  a  loud  stamp  on  the  boot  in  the  energy  of 
the  moment,  and — found  that  it  was  grey  morning,  and  he 
was  sitting  in  the  wheel  Wright's  yard,  on  the  box  of  an  old 
Edinburgh  mail,  shivering  with  the  cold  and  wet  and  stamping 
his  feet  to  warm  them !  He  got  down,  and  looked  eagerly 
inside  for  the  beautiful  young  lady.  Alas!  There  was 
neither  door  nor  seat  to  the  coach.  It  was  a  mere  shell. 

"  Of  course,  my  uncle  knew  very  well  that  there  was  some 
mystery  in  the  matter,  and  that  everything  had  passed  exactly 
as  he  used  to  relate  it.  He  remained  staunch  to  the  great  oath 
he  had  sworn  to  the  beautiful  young  lady :  refusing  several 
eligible  landladies  on  her  account,  and  dying  a  bachelor  at 
last.  He  always  said,  what  a  curious  thing  it  was  that  he 
should  have  found  out,  by  such  a  mere  accident  as  his 
clambering  over  the  palings,  that  the  ghosts  of  mail-coaches 
and  horses,  guards,  coachmen,  and  passengers,  were  in  the 


352  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

habit  of  making  journeys  regularly  every  night.  He  used  to 
add,  that  he  believed  he  was  the  only  living  person  who  had 
ever  been  taken  as  a  passenger  on  one  of  these  excursions. 
And  I  think  he  was  right,  gentlemen — at  least  I  never  heard 
of  any  other."  

"  I  wonder  what  these  ghosts  of  mail-coaches  carry  in  their 
bags,'1  said  the  landlord,  who  had  listened  to  the  whole  story 
with  profound  attention. 

"  The  dead  letters,  of  course,"  said  the  Bagman. 

"  Oh,  ah !  To  be  sure,11  rejoined  the  landlord.  "  I  never 
thought  of  that.11 


CHAPTER    L. 

HOW  MR.  PICKWICK  SPED  UPON  HIS  MISSION,  AND  HOW  HE  WAS 
REINFORCED  IN  THE  OUTSET  BY  A  MOST  UNEXPECTED 
AUXILIARY. 

THE  horses  were  put  to,  punctually  at  a  quarter  before  nine 
next  morning,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Sam  Weller  having  each 
taken  his  seat,  the  one  inside  and  the  other  out,  the  postillion 
was  duly  directed  to  repair  in  the  first  instance  to  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer's  house,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  up  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen. 

It  was  with  feelings  of  no  small  astonishment,  when  the 
carriage  drew  up  before  the  door  with  the  red  lamp,  and  the 
very  legible  inscription  of  "Sawyer,  late  Nockemorf,"  that 
Mr.  Pickwick  saw,  on  popping  his  head  out  of  the  coach- 
window,  the  boy  in  the  grey  livery  very  busily  employed  in 
putting  up  the  shutters :  the  which,  being  an  unusual  and  an 
un-business-like  proceeding  at  that  hour  of  the  morning,  at 
once  suggested  to  his  mind,  two  inferences ;  the  one,  that 
some  good  friend  and  patient  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer's  was  dead ; 
the  other,  that  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  himself  was  bankrupt. 

"What  is  the  matter?11  said  Mr.  Pickwick  to  the  boy. 

"Nothing's  the  matter,  sir,11  replied  the  boy,  expanding 
his  mouth  to  the  whole  breadth  of  his  countenance. 

"  All  right,  all  right ! "  cried  Bob  Sawyer  suddenly  appear- 
ing at  the  door,  with  a  small  leathern  knapsack,  limp  and 


354  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

dirty,  in  one  hand,  and  a  rough  coat  and  shawl  thrown  over 
the  other  arm.  "  I'm  going,  old  fellow." 

"  You  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Yes,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer,  "and  a  regular  expedition 
we'll  make  of  it.  Here,  Sam!  Look  out!"  Thus  briefly 
bespeaking  Mr.  Weller's  attention,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  jerked 
the  leathern  knapsack  into  the  dickey,  where  it  was  imme- 
diately stowed  away,  under  the  seat,  by  Sam,  who  regarded 
the  proceeding  with  great  admiration.  This  done,  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer,  with  the  assistance  of  the  boy,  forcibly  worked  him- 
self into  the  rough  coat,  which  was  a  few  sizes  too  small  for 
him,  and  then  advancing  to  the  coach  window,  thrust  in  his 
head,  and  laughed  boisterously. 

"  What  a  start  it  is,  isn't  it ! "  cried  Bob,  wiping  the  tears 
out  of  his  eyes,  with  one  of  the  cuffs  of  the  rough  coat. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  some  embarrassment, 
"  I  had  no  idea  of  your  accompanying  us." 

"  No,  that's  just  the  very  thing,"  replied  Bob,  seizing  Mr. 
Pickwick  by  the  lappel  of  his  coat.  "  That's  the  joke." 

"  Oh,  that's  the  joke  ?  "  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

« Of  course,"  replied  Bob.  "  It's  the  whole  point  of  the 
thing,  you  know — that,  and  leaving  the  business  to  take  care 
of  itself,  as  it  seems  to  have  made  up  its  mind  not  to  take 
care  of  me."  With  this  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  of  the 
shutters,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  pointed  to  the  shop,  and  relapsed 
into  an  ecstasy  of  mirth. 

"Bless  me,  you  are  surely  not  mad  enough  to  think  of 
leaving  your  patients  Avithout  anybody  to  attend  them ! " 
remonstrated  Mr.  Pickwick  in  a  very  serious  tone. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Bob,  in  reply.  "I  shall  save  by  it, 
you  know.  None  of  them  ever  pay.  Besides,"  said  Bob, 
lowering  his  voice  to  a  confidential  whisper,  "  they  will  be  all 
the  better  for  it ;  for,  being  nearly  out  of  drugs,  and  not  able 
to  increase  my  account  just  now,  I  should  have  been  obliged  to 
give  them  calomel  all  round,  and  it  would  have  been  certain 
to  have  disagreed  with  some  of  them.  So  it's  all  for  the  best." 


A  VOLUNTEER.  355 

There  was  a  philosophy,  and  a  strength  of  reasoning,  about 
this  reply,  which  Mr.  Pickwick  was  not  prepared  for.  He 
paused  a  few  moments,  and  added,  less  firmly  than  before : 

"But  this  chaise,  my  young  friend,  will  only  hold  two; 
and  I  am  pledged  to  Mr.  Allen." 

"Don't  think  of  me  for  a  minute,"  replied  Bob.  "I've 
arranged  it  all ;  Sam  and  I  will  share  the  dickey  between  us. 
Look  here.  This  little  bill  is  to  be  wafered  on  the  shop 
door:  *  Sawyer,  late  Nockemorf.  Enquire  of  Mrs.  Cripps 
over  the  way.1  Mrs.  Cripps  is  my  boy's  mother.  'Mr. 
Sawyer's  very  sorry,'  says  Mrs.  Cripps,  'couldn't  help  it- 
fetched  away  early  this  morning  to  a  consultation  of  the  very 
first  surgeons  in  the  country — couldn't  do  without  him — 
would  have  him  at  any  price — tremendous  operation.'  The 
fact  is,"  said  Bob  in  conclusion,  "  it'll  do  me  more  good  than 
otherwise,  I  expect.  If  it  gets  into  one  of  the  local  papers,  it 
will  be  the  making  of  me.  Here's  Ben ;  now  then,  jump  in  ! " 

With  these  hurried  words,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  pushed  the  post- 
boy on  one  side,  jerked  his  friend  into  the  vehicle,  slammed 
the  door,  put  up  the  steps,  wafered  the  bill  on  the  street 
door,  locked  it,  put  the  key  in  his  pocket,  jumped  into  the 
dickey,  gave  the  word  for  starting,  and  did  the  whole  with  such 
extraordinary  precipitation,  that  before  Mr.  Pickwick  had  well 
began  to  consider  whether  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  ought  to  go  or 
not,  they  were  rolling  away,  with  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  thoroughly 
established  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  equipage.  ' 

So  long  as  their  progress  was  confined  to  the  streets  of 
Bristol,  the  facetious  Bob  kept  his  professional  green  spectacles 
on,  and  conducted  himself  with  becoming  steadiness  and 
gravity  of  demeanour ;  merely  giving  utterance  to  divers  verbal 
witticisms  for  the  exclusive  behoof  and  entertainment  of  Mr. 
Samuel  Weller.  But  when  they  emerged  on  the  open  road, 
he  threw  off  his  green  spectacles  and  his  gravity  together, 
and  performed  a  great  variety  of  practical  jokes,  which  were 
calculated  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  passers-by,  and  to 
render  the  carriage  and  those  it  contained,  objects  of  more 


356  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

than  ordinary  curiosity ;  the  least  conspicuous  among  these  feats, 
being,  a  most  vociferous  imitation  of  a  key-bugle,  and  the 
ostentatious  display  of  a  crimson  silk  pocket-handkerchief 
attached  to  a  walking-stick,  which  was  occasionally  waved 
in  the  air  with  various  gestures  indicative  of  supremacy  and 
defiance. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  stopping  in  the  midst  of 
a  most  sedate  conversation  with  Ben  Allen,  bearing  reference 
to  the  numerous  good  qualities  of  Mr.  Winkle  and  his  sister : 
"  I  wonder  what  all  the  people  we  pass,  can  see  in  us  to  make 
them  stare  so.11 

"It's  a  neat  turn-out,"  replied  Ben  Allen,  with  something 
of  pride  in  his  tone.  "  They're  not  used  to  see  this  sort  of 
thing,  every  day,  I  dare  say."" 

"Possibly,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "It  may  be  so.  Per- 
haps it  is.1' 

Mr.  Pickwick  might  very  probably  have  reasoned  himself 
into  the  belief  that  it  really  was :  had  he  not,  just  then 
happening  to  look  out  of  the  coach  window,  observed  that 
the  looks  of  the  passengers  betokened  anything  but  respectful 
astonishment,  and  that  various  telegraphic  communications 
appeared  to  be  passing  between  them  and  some  persons  out- 
side the  vehicle :  whereupon  it  occurred  to  him  that  these 
demonstrations  might  be,  in  some  remote  degree,  referable  to 
the  humorous  deportment  of  Mr.  Robert  Sawyer. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  that  our  volatile  friend  is 
committing  no  absurdities  in  that  dickey  behind." 

"Oh  dear,  no,"  replied  Ben  Allen.  "Except  when  he's 
elevated,  Bob's  the  quietest  creature  breathing." 

Here  a  prolonged  imitation  of  a  key -bugle  broke  upon  the 
ear,  succeeded  by  cheers  and  screams,  all  of  which  evidently 
proceeded  from  the  throat  and  lungs  of  the  quietest  creature 
breathing,  or  in  plainer  designation,  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
himself. 

Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr.  Ben  Allen  looked  expressively  at 
each  other,  and  the  former  gentleman  taking  off  his  hat,  and 


DEMONSTRATIONS  OUTSIDE.  357 

leaning  out  of  the  coach-window  until  nearly  the  whole  of 
his  waistcoat  was  outside  it,  was  at  length  enabled  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  facetious  friend. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  was  seated :  not  in  the  dickey,  but  on  the 
roof  of  the  chaise,  with  his  legs  as  far  asunder  as  they  would 
conveniently  go,  wearing  Mr.  Samuel  Welter's  hat  on  one  side 
of  his  head,  and  bearing,  in  one  hand,  a  most  enormous  sand- 
wich, while,  in  the  other,  he  supported  a  goodly-sized  case 
bottle,  to  both  of  which  he  applied  himself  with  intense  relish  : 
varying  the  monotony  of  the  occupation  by  an  occasional  howl, 
or  the  interchange  of  some  lively  badinage  with  any  passing 
stranger.  The  crimson  flag  was  carefully  tied  in  an  erect 
position  to  the  rail  of  the  dickey ;  and  Mr.  Samuel  Weller, 
decorated  with  Bob  Sawyer's  hat,  was  seated  in  the  centre 
thereof,  discussing  a  twin  sandwich,  with  an  animated  counte- 
nance, the  expression  of  which  betokened  his  entire  and  perfect 
approval  of  the  whole  arrangement. 

This  was  enough  to  irritate  a  gentleman  with  Mr.  Pickwick's 
sense  of  propriety,  but  it  was  not  the  whole  extent  of  the 
aggravation,  for  a  stage-coach  full,  inside  and  out,  was  meeting 
them  at  the  moment,  and  the  astonishment  of  the  passengers 
was  very  palpably  evinced.  The  congratulations  of  an  Irish 
family,  too,  who  were  keeping  up  with  the  chaise,  and  begging 
all  the  time,  were  of  rather  a  boisterous  description ;  especially 
those  of  its  male  head,  who  appeared  to  consider  the  display 
as  part  and  parcel  of  some  political,  or  other  procession  of 
triumph. 

"Mr.  Sawyer!"  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  in  a  state  of  great 
excitement.  "Mr.  Sawyer,  sir!" 

"  Hallo  ! "  responded  that  gentleman,  looking  over  the  side 
of  the  chaise  with  all  the  coolness  in  life. 

"Are  you  mad,  sir?"  demanded  Mr.  Pickwick. 

«  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replied  Bob ;  "  only  cheerful." 

"Cheerful,  sir!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Take  down 
that  scandalous  red  handkerchief,  I  beg.  I  insist,  sir.  Sam, 
take  it  down." 


358  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Before  Sam  could  interpose,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  gracefully 
struck  his  colours,  and  having  put  them  in  his  pocket,  nodded 
in  a  courteous  manner  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  wiped  the  mouth  of 
the  case-bottle,  and  applied  it  to  his  own ;  thereby  informing 
him,  without  any  unnecessary  waste  of  words,  that  he  devoted 
that  draught  to  wishing  him  all  manner  of  happiness  and 
prosperity.  Having  done  this,  Bob  replaced  the  cork  with 
great  care,  and  looking  benignantly  down  on  Mr.  Pickwick, 
took  a  large  bite  out  of  the  sandwich,  and  smiled. 

"  Come,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  whose  momentary  anger  was 
not  quite  proof  against  Soft's  immovable  self-possession,  "  pray 
let  us  have  no  more  of  this  absurdity."" 

"No,  no,11  replied  Bob,  once  more  exchanging  hats  with 
Mr.  Weller ;  "  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it,  only  I  got  so  enlivened 
with  the  ride  that  I  couldn't  help  it" 

"  Think  of  the  look  of  the  thing,"  expostulated  Mr.  Pick- 
wick ;  "  have  some  regard  to  appearances.11 

"  Oh,  certainly,11  said  Bob,  "  it's  not  the  sort  of  thing  at  all. 
All  over,  governor."" 

Satisfied  with  this  assurance,  Mr.  Pickwick  once  more  drew 
his  head  into  the  chaise  and  pulled  up  the  glass ;  but  he  had 
scarcely  resumed  the  conversation  which  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  had 
interrupted,  when  he  was  somewhat  startled  by  the  apparition 
of  a  small  dark  body,  of  an  oblong  form,  on  the  outside  of 
the  window,  which  gave  sundry  taps  against  it,  as  if  impatient 
of  admission. 

"  Whafs  this  ?  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  It  looks  like  a  case-bottle ; "  remarked  Ben  Allen,  eyeing 
the  object  in  question  through  his  spectacles  with  some 
interest ;  "  I  rather  think  it  belongs  to  Bob.11 

The  impression  was  perfectly  accurate ;  for  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
having  attached  the  case-bottle  to  the  end  of  the  walking-stick, 
was  battering  the  window  with  it,  in  token  of  his  wish  that 
his  friends  inside  would  partake  of  its  contents,  in  all  good 
fellowship  and  harmony. 

"What's    to   be   done?"   said    Mr.    Pickwick,   looking   at 


MILK-PUNCH.  359 

the    bottle.      "This    proceeding   is    more    absurd    than    the 
other." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  best  to  take  it  in,"  replied  Mr.  Ben 
Allen ;  "  it  would  serve  him  right  to  take  it  in  and  keep  it, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"It  would,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick:  "shall  I?" 

"  I  think  it  the  most  proper  course  we  could  possibly  adopt," 
replied  Ben. 

This  advice  quite  coinciding  with  his  own  opinion,  Mr. 
Pickwick  gently  let  down  the  window  and  disengaged  the 
bottle  from  the  stick :  upon  which  the  latter  was  drawn  up, 
and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  was  heard  to  laugh  heartily. 

"What  a  merry  dog  it  is!"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking 
round  at  his  companion  with  the  bottle  in  his  hand. 

"  He  is,"  said  Mr.  Allen. 

"You  cannot  possibly  be  angry  with  him,"  remarked  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"  Quite  out  of  the  question,1*  observed  Benjamin  Allen. 

During  this  short  interchange  of  sentiments,  Mr.  Pickwick 
had,  in  an  abstracted  mood,  uncorked  the  bottle. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Ben  Allen,  carelessly. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  equal  careless- 
ness. "  It  smells,  I  think,  like  milk-punch." 

"Oh,  indeed?"  said  Ben. 

"  I  think  so,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  very  properly  guarding 
himself  against  the  possibility  of  stating  an  untruth :  "  mind, 
I  could  not  undertake  to  say  certainly,  without  tasting  it." 

"  You  had  better  do  so,"  said  Ben ;  "  we  may  as  well  know 
what  it  is." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Well ;  if  you 
are  curious  to  know,  of  course  I  have  no  objection." 

Ever  willing  to  sacrifice  his  own  feelings  to  the  wishes  of 
his  friend,  Mr.  Pickwick  at  once  took  a  pretty  long  taste. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  inquired  Ben  Allen,  interrupting  him  with 
some  impatience. 

"  Curious,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  smacking  his  lips,  "  I  hardly 


360  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

know,  now.     Oh,  yes ! "  said    Mr.    Pickwick,   after  a   second 
taste.     "  It  is  punch." 

Mr.  Ben  Allen  looked  at  Mr.  Pickwick  ;  Mr.  Pickwick  looked 
at  Mr.  Ben  Allen  ;  Mr.  Ben  Allen  smiled ;  Mr.  Pickwick  did 
not. 

"  It  would  serve  him  right,""  said  the  last-named  gentleman, 
with  some  severity,  "it  would  serve  him  right  to  drink  it 
every  drop.1 

"The  very  thing  that  occurred  to  me,11  said  Ben  Allen.1 

"Is  it  indeed?""  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Then  here's 
his  health ! "  With  these  words,  that  excellent  person  took 
a  most  energetic  pull  at  the  bottle,  and  handed  it  to  Ben 
Allen,  who  was  not  slow  to  imitate  his  example.  The  smiles 
became  mutual,  and  the  milk-punch  was  gradually  and  cheer- 
fully disposed  of. 

"After  all,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  he  drained  the  last 
drop,  "his  pranks  are  really  very  amusing;  very  entertaining 
indeed.11 

"You  may  say  that,11  rejoined  Mr.  Ben  Allen.  In  proof 
of  Bob  Sawyer's  being  one  of  the  funniest  fellows  alive,  he 
proceeded  to  entertain  Mr.  Pickwick  with  a  long  and  circum- 
stantial account  how  that  gentleman  once  drank  himself  into  a 
fever  and  got  his  head  shaved ;  the  relation  of  which  pleasant 
and  agreeable  history  was  only  stopped  by  the  stoppage  of 
the  chaise  at  the  Bell  at  Berkeley  Heath,  to  change  horses. 

"  I  say  !  WeVe  going  to  dine  here,  aren't  we  ?  "  said  Bob, 
looking  in  at  the  window. 

"  Dine  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  "Why,  we  have  only  come 
nineteen  miles,  and  have  eighty-seven  and  a  half  to  go.11 

"Just  the  reason  why  we  should  take  something  to  enable 
us  to  bear  up  against  the  fatigue,11  remonstrated  Mr.  Bob 
Sawyer. 

Oh,  it's  quite  impossible  to  dine  at  half-past  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  day,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  So  it  is,11  rejoined  Bob,  "  lunch  is  the  very  thing.  Hallo, 
you  sir !  Lunch  for  three,  directly,  and  keep  the  horses  back 


REFRESHMENTS   BY  THE  WAY.  361 

for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Tell  them  to  put  everything  they 
have  cold,  on  the  table,  and  some  bottled  ale,  and  let  us  taste 
your  very  best  Madeira.""  Issuing  these  orders  with  monstrous 
importance  and  bustle,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  at  once  hurried  into 
the  house  to  superintend  the  arrangements ;  in  less  than  five 
minutes  he  returned  and  declared  them  to  be  excellent. 

The  quality  of  the  lunch  fully  justified  the  eulogium  which 
Bob  had  pronounced,  and  very  great  justice  was  done  to  it, 
not  only  by  that  gentleman,  but  Mr.  Ben  Allen  and  Mr. 
Pickwick  also.  Under  the  auspices  of  the  three,  the  bottled 
ale  and  the  Madeira  were  promptly  disposed  of;  and  when 
(the  horses  being  once  more  put  to)  they  resumed  their  seats, 
with  the  case-bottle  full  of  the  best  substitute  for  milk-punch 
that  could  be  procured  on  so  short  a  notice,  the  key-bugle 
sounded,  and  the  red  flag  waved,  without  the  slightest  oppo- 
sition on  Mr.  Pickwick's  part. 

At  the  Hop  Pole  at  Tewkesbury,  they  stopped  to  dine; 
upon  which  occasion  there  was  more  bottled  ale,  with  some 
more  Madeira,  and  some  Port  besides ;  and  here  the  case-bottle 
was  replenished  for  the  fourth  time.  Under  the  influence  of 
these  combined  stimulants,  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Mr.  Ben  Allen 
fell  fast  asleep  for  thirty  miles,  while  Bob  and  Mr.  Weller 
sang  duets  in  the  dickey. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  Mr.  Pickwick  roused  himself 
sufficiently  to  look  out  of  window.  The  straggling  cottages 
by  the  road-side,  the  dingy  hue  of  every  object  visible,  the 
murky  atmosphere,  the  paths  of  cinders  and  brick-dust,  the 
deep-red  glow  of  furnace  fires  in  the  distance,  the  volumes 
of  dense  smoke  issuing  heavily  forth  from  high  toppling 
chimneys,  blackening  and  obscuring  everything  around ;  the 
glare  of  distant  lights,  the  ponderous  waggons  which  toiled 
along  the  road,  laden  with  clashing  rods  of  iron,  or  piled 
with  heavy  goods — all  betokened  their  rapid  approach  to 
the  great  working  town  of  Birmingham. 

As  they  rattled  through  the  narrow  thoroughfares  leading 
to  the  heart  of  the  turmoil,  the  sights  and  sounds  of  earnest 


362  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

occupation  struck  more  forcibly  on  the  senses.  The  streets 
were  thronged  with  working-people.  The  hum  of  labour 
resounded  from  every  house,  lights  gleamed  from  the  long 
casement  windows  in  the  attic  stories,  and  the  whirl  of  wheels 
and  noise  of  machinery  shook  the  trembling  walls.  The  fires, 
whose  lurid  sullen  light  had  been  visible  for  miles,  blazed 
fiercely  up,  in  the  great  works  and  factories  of  the  town. 
The  din  of  hammers,  the  rushing  of  steam,  and  the  dead 
heavy  clanking  of  engines,  was  the  harsh  music  which  arose 
from  every  quarter. 

The  postboy  was  driving  briskly  through  the  open  streets, 
and  past  the  handsome  and  well-lighted  shops  which  intervene 
between  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  the  Old  Royal  Hotel, 
before  Mr.  Pickwick  had  begun  to  consider  the  very  difficult 
and  delicate  nature  of  the  commission  which  had  carried  him 
thither. 

The  delicate  nature  of  this  commission,  and  the  difficulty 
of  executing  it  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  were  by  no  means 
lessened  by  the  voluntary  companionship  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer. 
Truth  to  tell,  Mr.  Pickwick  felt  that  his  presence  on  the 
occasion,  however  considerate  and  gratifying,  was  by  no  means 
an  honour  he  would  willingly  have  sought;  in  fact,  he  would 
cheerfully  have  given  a  reasonable  sum  of  money  to  have  had 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  removed  to  any  place  at  not  less  than  fifty 
miles1  distance,  without  delay. 

Mr.  Pickwick  had  never  held  any  personal  communication 
with  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  although  he  had  once  or  twice 
corresponded  with  him  by  letter,  and  returned  satisfactory 
answers  to  his  inquiries  concerning  the  moral  character  and 
behaviour  of  his  son ;  he  felt  nervously  sensible  that  to  wait 
upon  him,  for  the  first  time,  attended  by  Bob  Sawyer  and 
Ben  Allen,  both  slightly  fuddled,  was  not  the  most  ingenious 
and  likely  means  that  could  have  been  hit  upon  to  prepossess 
him  in  his  favour. 

"  However,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  endeavouring  to  re-assure 
himself,  "  I  must  do  the  best  I  can.  I  must  see  him  to-night, 


AT  THE   OLD  ROYAL.  363 

for  I  faithfully  promised  to  do  so.  If  they  persist  in  accom- 
panying me,  I  must  make  the  interview  as  brief  as  possible, 
and  be  content  to  hope  that,  for  their  own  sakes,  they  will 
not  expose  themselves." 

As  he  comforted  himself  with  these  reflections,  the  chaise 
stopped  at  the  door  of  the  Old  Royal.  Ben  Allen  having 
been  partially  awakened  from  a  stupendous  sleep,  and 
dragged  out  by  the  collar  by  Mr.  Samuel  Weller,  Mr.  Pick- 
wick was  enabled  to  alight  They  were  shown  to  a  comfort- 
able apartment,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  at  once  propounded  a 
question  to  the  waiter  concerning  the  whereabout  of  Mr. 
Winkle's  residence. 

"Close  by,  sir,"  said  the  waiter,  "not  above  five  hundred 
yards,  sir.  Mr.  Winkle  is  a  wharfinger,  sir,  at  the  canal,  sir. 
Private  residence  is  not — oh  dear  no,  sir,  not  five  hundred 
yards,  sir."  Here  the  waiter  blew  a  candle  out,  and  made  a 
feint  of  lighting  it  again,  in  order  to  afford  Mr.  Pickwick 
an  opportunity  of  asking  any  further  questions,  if  he  felt  so 
disposed. 

"Take  anything  now,  sir?"  said  the  waiter,  lighting  the 
candle  in  desperation  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  silence.  "Tea  or 
coffee,  sir?  Dinner,  sir?" 

"  Nothing  now." 

"Very  good,  sir.     Like  to  order  supper,  sir?" 

"  Not  just  now." 

"  Very  good,  sir."  Here,  he  walked  softly  to  the  door, 
and  then  stopping  short,  turned  round,  and  said,  with  great 
suavity : 

"  Shall  I  send  the  chambermaid,  gentlemen  ? " 

"  You  may  if  you  please ; "  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"If  you  please,  sir." 

"  And  bring  some  soda  water,"  said  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  Soda  water,  sir  ?  Yes,  sir."  With  his  mind  apparently 
relieved  from  an  overwhelming  weight,  by  having  at  last 
got  an  order  for  something,  the  waiter  imperceptibly  melted 
away.  Waiters  never  walk  or  run.  They  have  a  peculiar 


364  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

and  mysterious  power  of  skimming  out  of  rooms,  which  other 
mortals  possess  not. 

Some  slight  symptoms  of  vitality  having  been  awakened  in 
Mr.  Ben  Allen  by  the  soda  water,  he  suffered  himself  to  be 
prevailed  upon  to  wash  his  face  and  hands,  and  to  submit  to 
be  brushed  by  Sam.  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Bob  Sawyer  having 
also  repaired  the  disorder  which  the  journey  had  made  in 
their  apparel,  the  three  started  forth,  arm  in  arm,  to  Mr. 
Winkle's ;  Bob  Sawyer  impregnating  the  atmosphere  with 
tobacco  smoke  as  he  walked  along. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  in  a  quiet,  substantial- 
looking  street,  stood  an  old  red-brick  house  with  three  steps 
before  the  door,  and  a  brass  plate  upon  it,  bearing,  in  fat 
Roman  capitals,  the  words,  "Mr.  Winkle.11  The  steps  were 
very  white,  and  the  bricks  were  very  red,  and  the  house  was 
very  clean ;  and  here  stood  Mr.  Pickwick,  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen, 
and  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  as  the  clock  struck  ten. 

A  smart  servant  girl  answered  the  knock,  and  started  on 
beholding  the  three  strangers. 

"  Is  Mr.  Winkle  at  home,  my  dear  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  He  is  just  going  to  supper,  sir,11  replied  the  girl. 

"  Give  him  that  card  if  you  please,11  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"Say  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  him  at  so  late  an  hour;  but  I 
am  anxious  to  see  him  to-night,  and  have  only  just  arrived." 

The  girl  looked  timidly  at  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  who  was  ex- 
pressing his  admiration  of  her  personal  charms  by  a  variety 
of  wonderful  grimaces;  and  casting  an  eye  at  the  hats  and 
great  coats  which  hung  in  the  passage,  called  another  girl  to 
mind  the  door  while  she  went  up  stairs.  The  sentinel  was 
speedily  relieved ;  for  the  girl  returned  immediately,  and 
begging  pardon  of  the  gentlemen  for  leaving  them  in  the 
street,  ushered  them  into  a  floor-clothed  back  parlour,  half 
office  and  half  dressing-room,  in  which  the  principal  useful 
and  ornamental  articles  of  furniture,  were  a  desk,  a  wash-hand 
stand  and  shaving  glass,  a  boot-rack  and  boot-jack,  a  high 
stool,  four  chairs,  a  table,  and  an  old  eight-day  clock.  Over 


THE  PATERNAL  WINKLE.  365 

the  mantel-piece  were  the  sunken  doors  of  an  iron  safe,  while 
a  couple  of  hanging  shelves  for  books,  an  almanack,  and 
several  files  of  dusty  papers,  decorated  the  walls. 

"Very  sorry  to  leave  you  standing  at  the  door,  sir,11  said 
the  girl,  lighting  a  lamp,  and  addressing  Mr.  Pickwick  with 
a  winning  smile,  "but  you  was  quite  strangers  to  me;  and 
we  have  such  a  many  trampers  that  only  come  to  see  what 
they  can  lay  their  hands  on,  that  really — 

"  There  is  not  the  least  occasion  for  any  apology,  my  dear,11 
said  Mr.  Pickwick  good  humouredly. 

"  Not  the  slightest,  my  love,11  said  Bob  Sawyer,  playfully 
stretching  forth  his  arms,  and  skipping  from  side  to  side,  as 
if  to  prevent  the  young  lady's  leaving  the  room. 

The  young  lady  was  not  at  all  softened  by  these  allurements, 
for  she  at  once  expressed  her  opinion  that  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
was  an  "  odous  creetur ; "  and,  on  his  becoming  rather  more 
pressing  in  his  attentions,  imprinted  her  fair  fingers  upon  his 
face,  and  bounced  out  of  the  room  with  many  expressions  of 
aversion  and  contempt. 

Deprived  of  the  young  lady^  society,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
proceeded  to  divert  himself  by  peeping  into  the  desk,  looking 
into  all  the  table-drawers,  feigning  to  pick  the  lock  of  the 
iron  safe,  turning  the  almanack  with  its  face  to  the  wall, 
trying  on  the  boots  of  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  over  his  own,  and 
making  several  other  humorous  experiments  upon  the  furniture, 
all  of  which  afforded  Mr.  Pickwick  unspeakable  horror  and 
agony,  and  yielded  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  proportionate  delight. 

At  length  the  door  opened,  and  a  little  old  gentleman  in 
a  snuff-coloured  suit,  with  a  head  and  face  the  precise  counter- 
part of  those  belonging  to  Mr.  Winkle,  junior,  excepting  that 
he  was  rather  bald,  trotted  into  the  room  with  Mr.  Pickwick's 
card  in  one  hand,  and  a  silver  candlestick  in  the  other. 

"  Mr.  Pickwick,  sir,  how  do  you  do  ? 11  said  Winkle  the 
elder,  putting  down  the  candlestick  and  proffering  his  hand. 
"  Hope  I  see  you  well,  sir.  Glad  to  see  you.  Be  seated,  Mr. 
Pickwick,  I  beg,  sir.  This  gentleman  is —  " 


366  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"My  friend,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  interposed  Mr.  Pickwick,  "your 
son's  friend." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Winkle  the  elder,  looking  rather  grimly  at 
Bob.  "  I  hope  you  are  well,  sir." 

"Right  as  a  trivet,  sir,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  This  other  gentleman,"  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  is,  as  you 
will  see,  when  you  have  read  the  letter  with  which  I  am 
entrusted,  a  very  near  relative,  or  I  should  rather  say  a  very 
particular  friend  of  your  son's.  His  name  is  Allen." 

"  That  gentleman  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Winkle,  pointing  with 
the  card  towards  Ben  Allen,  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  an 
attitude  which  left  nothing  of  him  visible  but  his  spine  and 
his  coat  collar. 

Mr.  Pickwick  was  on  the  point  of  replying  to  the  question, 
and  reciting  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen's  name  and  honourable  dis- 
tinctions at  full  length,  when  the  sprightly  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer, 
with  a  view  of  rousing  his  friend  to  a  sense  of  his  situation, 
inflicted  a  startling  pinch  upon  the  fleshy  part  of  his  arm, 
which  caused  him  to  jump  up  with  a  shriek.  Suddenly  aware 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  Mr.  Ben  Allen 
advanced,  and,  shaking  Mr.  Winkle  most  affectionately  by 
both  hands  for  about  five  minutes,  murmured,  in  some  half- 
intelligible  fragments  of  sentences,  the  great  delight  he  felt  in 
seeing  him,  and  a  hospitable  inquiry  whether  he  felt  disposed 
to  take  anything  after  his  walk,  or  would  prefer  waiting  "  till 
dinner-time ; "  which  done,  he  sat  down  and  gazed  about  him 
with  a  petrified  stare,  as  if  he  had  not  the  remotest  idea 
where  he  was,  which  indeed  he  had  not. 

All  this  was  most  embarrassing  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  the  more 
especially  as  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  evinced  palpable  astonish- 
ment at  the  eccentric — not  to  say  extraordinary — behaviour 
of  his  two  companions.  To  bring  the  matter  to  an  issue  at 
once,  he  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  presenting  it  to 
Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  said : 

"This  letter,  sir,  is  from  your  son.  You  will  see,  by  its 
contents,  that  on  your  favourable  and  fatherly  consideration 


CONFUSION  OF  MR.   BOB  SAWYER         367 

of  it,  depend  his  future  happiness  and  welfare.  Will  you 
oblige  me  by  giving  it  the  calmest  and  coolest  perusal,  and 
by  discussing  the  subject  afterwards,  with  me,  in  the  tone 
and  spirit  in  which  alone  it  ought  to  be  discussed?  You 
may  judge  of  the  importance  of  your  decision  to  your  son, 
and  his  intense  anxiety  upon  the  subject,  by  my  waiting  upon 
you,  without  any  previous  warning,  at  so  late  an  hour ;  and,"" 
added  Mr.  Pickwick,  glancing  slightly  at  his  two  companions, 
"and  under  such  unfavourable  circumstances."" 

With  this  prelude,  Mr.  Pickwick  placed  four  closely  written 
sides  of  extra  superfine  wire-wove  penitence  in  the  hands  of 
the  astounded  Mr.  Winkle,  senior.  Then  reseating  himself 
in  his  chair,  he  watched  his  looks  and  manner:  anxiously, 
it  is  true,  but  with  the  open  front  of  a  gentleman  who  feels 
he  has  taken  no  part  which  he  need  excuse  or  palliate. 

The  old  wharfinger  turned  the  letter  over;  looked  at  the 
front,  back,  and  sides;  made  a  microscopic  examination  of 
the  fat  little  boy  on  the  seal ;  raised  his  eyes  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick's face ;  and  then,  seating  himself  on  the  high  stool,  and 
drawing  the  lamp  closer  to  him,  broke  the  wax,  unfolded  the 
epistle,  and  lifting  it  to  the  light,  prepared  to  read. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  whose  wit  had 
lain  dormant  for  some  minutes,  placed  his  hands  upon  his 
knees,  and  made  a  face  after  the  portraits  of  the  late  Mr. 
Grimaldi,  as  clown.  It  so  happened  that  Mr.  Winkle,  senior, 
instead  of  being  deeply  engaged  in  reading  the  letter,  as  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  thought,  chanced  to  be  looking  over  the  top  of 
it  at  no  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  himself;  rightly 
conjecturing  that  the  face  aforesaid  was  made  in  ridicule 
and  derision  of  his  own  person,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  Bob  with 
such  expressive  sternness,  that  the  late  Mr.  Grimaldi's  linea- 
ments gradually  resolved  themselves  into  a  very  fine  expression 
of  humility  and  confusion. 

"  Did  you  speak,  sir  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  after 
an  awful  silence. 

"No,   sir,"   replied   Bob,   with   no  remains   of  the  clown 


368  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

about  him,  save  and  except  the  extreme  redness  of  his 
cheeks. 

"  You  are  sure  you  did  not,  sir  ? "  said  Mr.  Winkle,  senior. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,  sir,  quite,"  replied  Bob. 

"I  thought  you  did,  sir,"  rejoined  the  old  gentleman,  with 
indignant  emphasis.  "Perhaps  you  looked  at  me,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  no  !  sir,  not  at  all,"  replied  Bob,  with  extreme  civility. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Winkle,  senior. 
Having  frowned  upon  the  abashed  Bob  with  great  magnifi- 
cence, the  old  gentleman  again  brought  the  letter  to  the 
light,  and  began  to  read  it  seriously. 

Mr.  Pickwick  eyed  him  intently  as  he  turned  from  the 
bottom  line  of  the  first  page  to  the  top  line  of  the  second, 
and  from  the  bottom  of  the  second  to  the  top  of  the  third, 
and  from  the  bottom  of  the  third  to  the  top  of  the  fourth ; 
but  not  the  slightest  alteration  of  countenance  afforded  a 
clue  to  the  feelings  with  which  he  received  the  announcement 
of  his  son's  marriage,  which  Mr.  Pickwick  knew  was  in  the 
very  first  half-dozen  lines. 

He  read  the  letter  to  the  last  word ;  folded  it  again  with 
all  the  carefulness  and  precision  of  a  man  of  business;  and, 
just  when  Mr.  Pickwick  expected  some  great  outbreak  of 
feeling,  dipped  a  pen  in  the  inkstand,  and  said  as  quietly  as 
if  he  were  speaking  on  the  most  ordinary  counting-house 
topic : 

"What  is  Nathaniel's  address,  Mr.  Pickwick?" 

"  The  George  and  Vulture,  at  present,"  replied  that  gentle- 
man. 

"  George  and  Vulture.     Where  is  that  ?  " 

"  George  Yard,  Lombard  Street." 

"In  the  City?" 

"Yes." 

The  old  gentleman  methodically  indorsed  the  address  on 
the  back  of  the  letter ;  and  then,  placing  it  in  the  desk,  which 
he  locked,  said  as  he  got  off  the  stool  and  put  the  bunch  of 
keys  in  his  pocket: 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS.  369 

"  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  else  which  need  detain  us, 
Mr.  Pickwick?11 

"  Nothing  else,  my  dear  sir ! "  observed  that  warm-hearted 
person  in  indignant  amazement.  "  Nothing  else  !  Have  you 
no  opinion  to  express  on  this  momentous  event  in  our  young 
friend's  life?  No  assurance  to  convey  to  him,  through  me, 
of  the  continuance  of  your  affection  and  protection  ?  Nothing 
to  say  which  will  cheer  and  sustain  him,  and  the  anxious  girl 
who  looks  to  him  for  comfort  and  support  ?  My  dear  sir, 
consider.11 

"I  will  consider,11  replied  the  old  gentleman.  "I  have 
nothing  to  say  just  now.  I  am  a  man  of  business,  Mr. 
Pickwick.  I  never  commit  myself  hastily  in  any  affair,  and 
from  what  I  see  of  this,  I  by  no  means  like  the  appearance 
of  it.  A  thousand  pounds  is  not  much,  Mr.  Pickwick.11 

"  You're  very  right,  sir,11  interposed  Ben  Allen,  just  awake 
enough  to  know  that  he  had  spent  his  thousand  pounds 
without  the  smallest  difficulty.  "  YouVe  an  intelligent  man. 
Bob,  he's  a  very  knowing  fellow  this.11 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  find  that  you  do  me  the  justice  to 
make  the  admission,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Winkle,  senior,  looking 
contemptuously  at  Ben  Allen,  who  was  shaking  his  head 
profoundly.  "The  fact  is,  Mr.  Pickwick,  that  when  I  gave 
my  son  a  roving  license  for  a  year  or  so,  to  see  something 
of  men  and  manners  (which  he  has  done  under  your  auspices), 
so  that  he  might  not  enter  into  life  a  mere  boarding-school 
milk-sop  to  be  gulled  by  everybody,  I  never  bargained  for 
this.  He  knows  that,  very  well,  so  if  I  withdraw  my  coun- 
tenance from  him  on  this  account,  he  has  no  call  to  be 
surprised.  He  shall  hear  from  me,  Mr.  Pickwick.  Good 
night,  sir.  Margaret,  open  the  door.11 

All  this  time,  Bob  Sawyer  had  been  nudging  Mr.  Ben 
Allen  to  say  something  on  the  right  side;  Ben  accordingly 
now  burst,  without  the  slightest  preliminary  notice,  into  a 
brief  but  impassioned  piece  of  eloquence. 

"  Sir,11  said  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  staring  at  the  old  gentleman, 

VOL.  II.  2  B 


370  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

out  of  a  pair  of  very  dim  and  languid  eyes,  and  working 
his  right  arm  vehemently  up  and  down,  "you — you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.1' 

"As  the  lady's  brother,  of  course  you  are  an  excellent 
judge  of  the  question,"  retorted  Mr.  Winkle,  senior.  "  There ; 
that's  enough.  Pray  say  no  more,  Mr.  Pickwick.  Good  night, 
gentlemen  ! " 

With  these  words  the  old  gentleman  took  up  the  candlestick, 
and  opening  the  room  door,  politely  motioned  towards  the 
passage. 

"  You  will  regret  this,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  setting  his 
teeth  close  together  to  keep  down  his  choler;  for  he  felt 
how  important  the  effect  might  prove  to  his  young  friend. 

"  I  am  at  present  of  a  different  opinion,"  calmly  replied 
Mr.  Winkle,  senior.  "  Once  again,  gentlemen,  I  wish  you  a 
good  night." 

Mr.  Pickwick  walked,  with  angry  strides,  into  the  street. 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  completely  quelled  by  the  decision  of  the 
old  gentleman's  manner,  took  the  same  course.  Mr.  Ben 
Allen's  hat  rolled  down  the  steps  immediately  afterwards,  and 
Mr.  Ben  Allen's  body  followed  it  directly.  The  whole  party 
went  silent  and  supperless  to  bed ;  and  Mr.  Pickwick  thought, 
just  before  he  fell  asleep,  that  if  he  had  known  Mr.  Winkle, 
senior,  had  been  quite  so  much  of  a  man  of  business,  it  was 
extremely  probable  he  might  never  have  waited  upon  him, 
on  such  an  errand. 


CHAPTER    LI. 

IN  WHICH  MR.  PICKWICK  ENCOUNTERS  AX  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE. 
TO  WHICH  FORTUNATE  CIRCUMSTANCE  THE  READER  IS 
MAINLY  INDEBTED  FOR  MATTER  OF  THRILLING  INTEREST 
HEREIN  SET  DOWN,  CONCERNING  TWO  GREAT  PUBLIC  MEN 
OF  MIGHT  AND  POWER. 

THE  morning  which  broke  upon  Mr.  Pickwick's  sight,  at 
eight  o'clock,  was  not  at  all  calculated  to  elevate  his  spirits, 
or  to  lessen  the  depression  which  the  unlooked-for  result  of 
his  embassy  inspired.  The  sky  was  dark  and  gloomy,  the  air 
was  damp  and  raw,  the  streets  were  wet  and  sloppy.  The 
smoke  hung  sluggishly  above  the  chimney-tops  as  if  it  lacked 
the  courage  to  rise,  and  the  rain  came  slowly  and  doggedly 
down,  as  if  it  had  not  even  the  spirit  to  pour.  A  game-cock 
in  the  stable-yard,  deprived  of  every  spark  of  his  accustomed 
animation,  balanced  himself  dismally  on  one  leg  in  a  corner; 
a  donkey,  moping  with  drooping  head  under  the  narrow  roof 
of  an  outhouse,  appeared  from  his  meditative  and  miserable 
countenance  to  be  contemplating  suicide.  In  the  street, 
umbrellas  were  the  only  things  to  be  seen,  and  the  clicking 
of  pattens  and  splashing  of  rain -drops,  were  the  only  sounds 
to  be  heard. 

The  breakfast  was  interrupted  by  very  little  conversation ; 
even  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  felt  the  influence  of  the  weather,  and  the 
previous  day's  excitement.  In  his  own  expressive  language  he 
was  "  floored."  So  was  Mr.  Ben  Allen,  So  AVOS  Mr.  Pickwick. 


372  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

In  protracted  expectation  of  the  weather  clearing  up,  the 
last  evening  paper  from  London  was  read  and  re-read  with 
an  intensity  of  interest  only  known  in  cases  of  extreme  desti- 
tution ;  every  inch  of  the  carpet  was  walked  over,  with  similar 
perseverance;  the  windows  were  looked  out  of,  often  enough 
to  justify  the  imposition  of  an  additional  duty  upon  them ; 
all  kinds  of  topics  of  conversation  were  started,  and  failed ; 
and  at  length  Mr.  Pickwick,  when  noon  had  arrived,  without 
a  change  for  the  better,  rang  the  bell  resolutely  and  ordered 
out  the  chaise. 

Although  the  roads  were  miry,  and  the  drizzling  rain  came 
down  harder  than  it  had  done  yet,  and  although  the  mud 
and  wet  splashed  in  at  the  open  windows  of  the  carriage  to 
such  an  extent  that  the  discomfort  was  almost  as  great  to 
the  pair  of  insides  as  to  the  pair  of  outsides,  still  there  was 
something  in  the  motion,  and  the  sense  of  being  up  and  doing, 
which  was  so  infinitely  superior  to  being  pent  in  a  dull  room, 
looking  at  the  dull  rain  dripping  into  a  dull  street,  that  they 
all  agreed,  on  starting,  that  the  change  was  a  great  improve- 
ment, and  wondered  how  they  could  possibly  have  delayed 
making  it,  as  long  as  they  had  done. 

When  they  stopped  to  change  at  Coventry,  the  steam 
ascended  from  the  horses  in  such  clouds  as  wholly  to  obscure 
the  hostler,  whose  voice  was  however  heard  to  declare  from 
the  mist,  that  he  expected  the  first  Gold  Medal  from  the 
Humane  Society  on  their  next  distribution  of  rewards,  for 
taking  the  postboy's  hat  off;  the  water  descending  from  the 
brim  of  which,  the  invisible  gentleman  declared  must  inevitably 
have  drowned  him  (the  postboy),  but  for  his  great  presence 
of  mind  in  tearing  it  promptly  from  his  head,  and  drying 
the  gasping  man's  countenance  with  a  wisp  of  straw. 

"This  is  pleasant,"  said  Bob  Sawyer,  turning  up  his  coat 
collar,  and  pulling  the  shawl  over  his  mouth  to  concentrate 
the  fumes  of  a  glass  of  brandy  just  swallowed. 

"Wery,"  replied  Sam,  composedly. 

"You  don't  seem  to  mind  it,"  observed  Bob. 


CONCERNING  POSTBOYS  AND  DONKEYS.     373 

"  Vy,  I  don't  exactly  see  no  good  my  mindin'  on  it  'ud  do, 
sir,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Thai's  an  unanswerable  reason,  anyhow,"  said  Bob. 

"Yes,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller.  "Wotever  is,  is  right, 
as  the  young  nobleman  sveetly  remarked  wen  they  put  him 
down  in  the  pension  list  'cos  his  mother's  uncle's  vife's  grand- 
father vunce  lit  the  king's  pipe  vith  a  portable  tinder-box." 

"Not  a  bad  notion  that,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer 
approvingly. 

"Just  wot  the  young  nobleman  said  ev'ry  quarter-day 
arterwards  for  the  rest  of  his  life,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"Wos  you  ever  called  in,"  inquired  Sam,  glancing  at  the 
driver,  after  a  short  silence,  and  lowering  his  voice  to  a 
mysterious  whisper:  "wos  you  ever  called  in,  ven  you  wos 
'prentice  to  a  sawbones,  to  wisit  a  postboy?" 

"I  don't  remember  that  I  ever  was,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer. 

"You  never  see  a  postboy  in  that  'ere  hospital  as  you 
•walked  (as  they  says  o'  the  ghosts),  did  you  ? "  demanded 
Sam. 

'  No,"  replied  Bob  Sawyer.     "  I  don't  think  I  ever  did." 

"Never  know'd  a  churchyard  were  there  wos  a  postboy's 
tombstone,  or  see  a  dead  postboy,  did  you?"  inquired  Sam, 
pursuing  his  catechism. 

"  No,"  rejoined  Bob,  "  I  never  did." 

"No!"  rejoined  Sam,  triumphantly.  "Nor  never  vill ;  and 
there's  another  thing  that  no  man  never  see,  and  that's  a  dead 
donkey.  No  man  never  see  a  dead  donkey,  'cept  the  gen'l'm'n 
in  the  black  silk  smalls  as  know'd  the  young  'ooman  as  kep  a 
goat ;  and  that  wos  a  French  donkey,  so  wery  likely  he  warn't 
wun  o'  the  reg'lar  breed." 

"  Well,  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  the  postboys  ?"  asked 
Bob  Sawyer. 

"This  here,"  replied  Sam.  "Without  goin1  so  far  as  to 
as-sert,  as  some  wery  sensible  people  do,  that  postboys  and 
donkeys  is  both  immortal,  wot  I  say  is  this;  that  wenever 
they  feels  theirselves  gettin'  stiff  and  past  their  work,  they 


374  THE   PICKWICK   CLUB. 

just  rides  off  together,  wun  postboy  to  a  pair  in  the  usual 
way ;  wot  becomes  on  'em  nobody  knows,  but  it's  wery  pro- 
bable as  they  starts  avay  to  take  their  pleasure  in  some  other 
vorld,  for  there  ain't  a  man  alive  as  ever  see,  either  a  donkey 
or  a  postboy,  a  takin'  his  pleasure  in  this ! " 

Expatiating  upon  this  learned  and  remarkable  theory,  and 
citing  many  curious  statistical  and  other  facts  in  its  support, 
Sam  Weller  beguiled  the  time  until  they  reached  Dunchurch, 
where  a  dry  postboy  and  fresh  horses  were  procured ;  the 
next  stage  was  Daventry,  and  the  next  Towcester;  and  at 
the  end  of  each  stage  it  rained  harder  than  it  had  done  at 
the  beginning. 

"  I  say,"  remonstrated  Bob  Sawyer,  looking  in  at  the  coach 
window,  as  they  pulled  up  before  the  door  of  the  Saracen's 
Head,  Towcester,  "  this  won't  do,  you  know." 

"  Bless  me ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  just  awaking  from  a  nap, 
"I'm  afraid  you're  wet." 

"Oh  you  are,  are  you?"  returned  Bob.  "Yes,  I  am,  a 
little  that  way.  Uncomfortably  damp,  perhaps." 

Bob  did  look  dampish,  inasmuch  as  the  rain  was  streaming 
from  his  neck,  elbows,  cuffs,  skirts,  and  knees ;  and  his  whole 
apparel  shone  so  with  the  wet,  that  it  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  full  suit  of  prepared  oilskin. 

"  I  am  rather  wet,"  said  Bob,  giving  himself  a  shake,  and 
casting  a  little  hydraulic  shower  around,  like  a  Newfoundland 
dog  just  emerged  from  the  water. 

"  I  think  it's  quite  impossible  to  go  on  to-night,"  interposed 
Ben. 

"Out  of  the  question,  sir,"  remarked  Sam  Weller,  coming 
to  assist  in  the  conference ;  "  it's  a  cruelty  to  animals,  sir,  to 
ask  'em  to  do  it.  There's  beds  here,  sir,"  said  Sam,  address- 
ing his  master,  "everything  clean  and  comfortable.  Wery 
good  little  dinner,  sir,  they  can  get  ready  in  half  an  hour — 
pair  of  fowls,  sir,  and  a  weal  cutlet;  French  beans,  'taturs, 
tart,  and  tidiness.  You'd  better  stop  vere  you  are,  sir,  if  I 
might  recommend.  Take  adwice,  sir,  as  the  doctor  said." 


THE  SARACEN'S  HEAD,  TOWCESTER.       375 

The  host  of  the  Saracen's  Head  opportunely  appeared  at 
this  moment,  to  confirm  Mr.  Weller's  statement  relative  to 
the  accommodations  of  the  establishment,  and  to  back  his 
entreaties  with  a  variety  of  dismal  conjectures  regarding  the 
state  of  the  roads,  the  doubt  of  fresh  horses  being  to  be  had 
at  the  next  stage,  the  dead  certainty  of  its  raining  all  night, 
the  equally  mortal  certainty  of  its  clearing  up  in  the  morning, 
and  other  topics  of  inducement  familiar  to  innkeepers. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  but  I  must  send  a  letter  to 
London  by  some  conveyance,  so  that  it  may  be  delivered  the 
very  first  thing  in  the  morning,  or  I  must  go  forward  at  all 
hazards." 

The  landlord  smiled  his  delight.  Nothing  could  be  easier 
than  for  the  gentleman  to  inclose  a  letter  in  a  sheet  of  brown 
paper,  and  send  it  on,  either  by  the  mail  or  the  night  coach 
from  Birmingham.  If  the  gentleman  were  particularly  anxious 
to  have  it  left  as  soon  as  possible,  he  might  write  outside, 
"  To  be  delivered  immediately,"  which  was  sure  to  be  attended 
to ;  or  "  pay  the  bearer  half-a-crown  extra  for  instant  delivery,"" 
which  was  surer  still. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  then  we  will  stop  here." 

"  Lights  in  the  Sun,  John  ;  make  up  the  fire ;  the  gentle- 
men are  wet ! "  cried  the  landlord.  "  This  way,  gentlemen ; 
don't  trouble  yourselves  about  the  postboy  now,  sir.  Ill  send 
him  to  you  when  you  ring  for  him,  sir.  Now,  John,  the 
candles." 

The  candles  were  brought,  the  fire  was  stirred  up,  and  a 
fresh  log  of  wood  thrown  on.  In  ten  minutes1  time,  a  waiter 
was  laying  the  cloth  for  dinner,  the  curtains  were  drawn,  the 
fire  was  blazing  brightly,  and  everything  looked  (as  everything 
always  does,  in  all  decent  English  inns)  as  if  the  travellers 
had  been  expected,  and  their  comforts  prepared,  for  days 
beforehand. 

Mr.  Pickwick  sat  down  at  a  side  table,  and  hastily  indited 
a  note  to  Mr.  Winkle,  merely  informing  him  that  he  was 
detained  by  stress  of  weather,  but  would  certainly  be  in 


376  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

London  next  day ;  until  when  he  deferred  any  account  of  his 
proceedings.  This  note  was  hastily  made  into  a  parcel,  and 
despatched  to  the  bar  per  Mr.  Samuel  Weller. 

Sam  left  it  with  the  landlady,  and  was  returning  to  pull 
his  master's  boots  off,  after  drying  himself  by  the  kitchen  fire, 
when,  glancing  casually  through  a  half-opened  door,  he  was 
arrested  by  the  sight  of  a  gentleman  with  a  sandy  head  who 
had  a  large  bundle  of  newspapers  lying  on  the  table  before 
him,  and  was  perusing  the  leading  article  of  one  with  a  settled 
sneer  which  curled  up  his  nose  and  all  his  other  features  into 
a  majestic  expression  of  haughty  contempt. 

"  Hallo ! "  said  Sam,  "  I  ought  to  know  that  'ere  head  and 
them  features;  the  eye-glass,  too,  and  the  broad  brimmed 
tile !  Eatansvill  to  vit,  or  I'm  a  Roman." 

Sam  was  taken  with  a  troublesome  cough,  at  once,  for  the 
purpose  of  attracting  the  gentleman's  attention ;  the  gentleman 
starting  at  the  sound,  raised  his  head  and  his  eye-glass,  and 
disclosed  to  view  the  profound  and  thoughtful  features  of 
Mr.  Pott,  of  the  Eatanswill  Gazette. 

"Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Sam,  advancing  with  a 
bow,  "my  master's  here,  Mr.  Pott." 

"Hush,  hush!"  cried  Pott,  drawing  Sam  into  the  room, 
and  closing  the  door,  with  a  countenance  of  mysterious  dread 
and  apprehension. 

"Wot's  the  matter,  sir?"  inquired  Sam,  looking  vacantly 
about  him. 

"Not  a  whisper  of  my  name,"  replied  Pott;  "this  is  a 
buff  neighbourhood.  If  the  excited  and  irritable  populace 
knew  I  was  here,  I  should  be  torn  to  pieces." 

"  No  !     Vould  you,  sir  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"I  should  be  the  victim  of  their  fury,"  replied  Pott. 
"  Now,  young  man,  what  of  your  master  ?  " 

"He's  a  stopping  here  to-night  on  his  vay  to  town,  vith 
a  couple  of  friends,"  replied  Sam. 

"Is  Mr.  Winkle  one  of  them?"  inquired  Pott,  with  a 
slight  frown. 


MR.   POTT  IN  THE  BUFF  CAMP.  377 

"No,  sir.  Mr.  Vinkle  stops  at  home  now,""  rejoined  Sam. 
"  He's  married." 

"  Married ! "  exclaimed  Pott,  with  frightful  vehemence. 
He  stopped,  smiled  darkly,  and  added,  in  a  low,  vindictive 
tone  :  "  It  serves  him  right !  " 

Having  given  vent  to  this  cruel  ebullition  of  deadly  malice 
and  cold-blooded  triumph  over  a  fallen  enemy,  Mr.  Pott 
inquired  whether  Mr.  Pickwick's  friends  were  "  blue  ? " 
Receiving  a  most  satisfactory  answer  in  the  affirmative  from 
Sam,  who  knew  as  much  about  the  matter  as  Pott  himself, 
he  consented  to  accompany  him  to  Mr.  Pickwick's  room, 
where  a  hearty  welcome  awaited  him.  An  agreement  to 
club  dinners  together  was  at  once  made  and  ratified. 

"  And  how  are  matters  going  on  in  Eatanswill  ? "  inquired 
Mr.  Pickwick,  when  Pott  had  taken  a  seat  near  the  fire,  and 
the  whole  party  had  got  their  wet  boots  off,  and  dry  slippers 
on.  "  Is  the  Independent  still  in  being  ?  " 

"The  Independent,  sir,1'  replied  Pott,  "is  still  dragging 
on  a  wretched  and  lingering  career.  Abhorred  and  despised 
by  even  the  few  who  are  cognizant  of  its  miserable  and 
disgraceful  existence;  stifled  by  the  very  filth  it  so  profusely 
scatters ;  rendered  deaf  and  blind  by  the  exhalations  of  its 
own  slime;  the  obscene  journal,  happily  unconscious  of  its 
degraded  state,  is  rapidly  sinking  beneath  that  treacherous 
mud  which,  while  it  seems  to  give  it  a  firm  standing  with 
the  low  and  debased  classes  of  society,  is  nevertheless,  rising 
above  its  detested  head,  and  will  speedily  engulf  it  for  ever." 

Having  delivered  this  manifesto  (which  formed  a  portion 
of  his  last  week's  leader)  with  vehement  articulation,  the 
editor  paused  to  take  breath,  and  looked  majestically  at  Bob 
Sawyer. 

"  You  are  a  young  man,  sir,"  said  Pott. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  nodded. 

"  So  are  you,  sir,"  said  Pott,  addressing  Mr.  Ben  Allen. 

Ben  admitted  the  soft  impeachment. 

"And  are  both  deeply  imbued  with  those  blue  principles, 


378  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

which,  so  long  as  I  live,  I  have  pledged  myself  to  the  people 
of  these  kingdoms  to  support  and  to  maintain  ? ""  suggested 
Pott. 

"Why,  I  don't  exactly  know  about  that,11  replied  Bob 
Sawyer.  "lam—1' 

"Not  buff,  Mr.  Pickwick,11  interrupted  Pott,  drawing  back 
his  chair,  "your  friend  is  not  buff,  sir?11 

"  No,  no,11  rejoined  Bob,  "  I'm  a  kind  of  plaid  at  present ; 
a  compound  of  all  sorts  of  colours.11 

"  A  waverer,"  said  Pott,  solemnly,  "  a  waverer.  I  should 
like  to  show  you  a  series  of  eight  articles,  sir,  that  have 
appeared  in  the  Eatanswill  Gazette.  I  think  I  may  venture 
to  say  that  you  would  not  be  long  in  establishing  your 
opinions  on  a  firm  and  solid  blue  basis,  sir.11 

"I  dare  say  I  should  turn  very  blue,  long  before  I  got  to 
the  end  of  them,11  responded  Bob. 

Mr.  Pott  looked  dubiously  at  Bob  Sawyer  for  some  seconds, 
and,  turning  to  Mr.  Pickwick,  said,: 

"You  have  seen  the  literary  articles  which  have  appeared 
at  intervals  in  the  Eatanswill  Gazette  in  the  course  of  the 
last  three  months,  and  which  have  excited  such  general — I 
may  say  such  universal — attention  and  admiration  ?  " 

"Why,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  slightly  embarrassed  by 
the  question,  "the  fact  is,  I  have  been  so  much  engaged  in 
other  ways,  that  I  really  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of 
perusing  them.1" 

"  You  should  do  so,  sir,11  said  Pott,  with  a  severe  counte- 
nance. 

"I  will,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  They  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  copious  review  of  a  work 
on  Chinese  metaphysics,  sir,11  said  Pott 

"  Oh,11  observed  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  from  your  pen,  I  hope  ? " 

"From  the  pen  of  my  critic,  sir,11  rejoined  Pott  with 
dignity. 

"  An  abstruse  subject  I  should  conceive,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Very,  sir,11  responded  Pott,  looking  intensely  sage.     "  He 


CHINESE  METAPHYSICS.  379 

crammed  for  it,  to  use  a  technical  but  expressive  term ;  he 
read  up  for  the  subject,  at  my  desire,  in  the  Encyclopaedia 
SritarmicaJ" 

"Indeed!11  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "I  was  not  aware  that 
that  valuable  work  contained  any  information  respecting 
Chinese  metaphysics.11 

"He  read,  sir,""  rejoined  Pott,  laying  his  hand  on  Mr. 
Pickwick"^  knee,  and  looking  round  with  a  smile  of  intellectual 
superiority,  "he  read  for  metaphysics  under  the  letter  M, 
and  for  China  under  the  letter  C,  and  combined  his  informa- 
tion, sir?11 

Mr.  Pott's  features  assumed  so  much  additional  grandeur 
at  the  recollection  of  the  power  and  research  displayed  in 
the  learned  effusions  in  question,  that  some  minutes  elapsed 
before  Mr  Pickwick  felt  emboldened  to  renew  the  conversa- 
tion ;  at  length,  as  the  Editor's  countenance  gradually  relaxed 
into  its  customary  expression  of  moral  supremacy,  he  ventured 
to  resume  the  discourse  by  asking: 

"Is  it  fair  to  inquire  what  great  object  has  brought  you 
so  far  from  home  ?  " 

"That  object  which  actuates  and  animates  me  in  all  my 
gigantic  labours,  sir,11  replied  Pott,  with  a  calm  smile;  "my 
country's  good.11 

"I  supposed  it  was  some  public  mission,11  observed  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Yes,  sir,11  resumed  Pott,  "it  is.11  Here,  bending  towards 
Mr.  Pickwick,  he  whispered  in  a  deep  hollow  voice,  "A  buff 
ball,  sir,  will  take  place  in  Birmingham  to-morrow  evening.11 

"  God  bless  me  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Yes,  sir,  and  supper,11  added  Pott. 

"You  don't  say  so!11  ejaculated  Mr.  Pickwick. 

Pott  nodded  portentously. 

Now,  although  Mr.  Pickwick  feigned  to  stand  aghast  at 
this  disclosure,  he  was  so  little  versed  in  local  politics  that 
he  was  unable  to  form  an  adequate  comprehension  of  the 
importance  of  the  dire  conspiracy  it  referred  to ;  observing 


380  THE    PICKWICK   CLUB. 

which,  Mr.  Pott,  drawing  forth  the  last  number  of  the 
Eatanswill  Gazette,  and  referring  to  the  same,  delivered  him- 
self of  the  following  paragraph  : 

"  HOLE-AND-CORKER   BuFFERY. 

"A  reptile  contemporary  has  recently  sweltered  forth  his 
black  venom  in  the  vain  and  hopeless  attempt  of  sullying 
the  fair  name  of  our  distinguished  and  excellent  representative, 
the  Honourable  Mr.  Slumkey — that  Slumkey  whom  we,  long 
before  he  gained  his  present  noble  and  exalted  position, 
predicted  would  one  day  be,  as  he  now  is,  at  once  his  country's 
brightest  honour,  and  her  proudest  boast :  alike  her  bold 
defender  and  her  honest  pride — our  reptile  contemporary,  we 
say,  has  made  himself  merry,  at  the  expense  of  a  superbly 
embossed  plated  coal-scuttle,  which  has  been  presented  to 
that  glorious  man  by  his  enraptured  constituents,  and  towards 
the  purchase  of  which,  the  nameless  wretch  insinuates,  the 
Honourable  Mr.  Slumkey  himself  contributed,  through  a 
confidential  friend  of  his  butler's,  more  than  three-fourths 
of  the  whole  sum  subscribed.  Why,  does  not  the  crawling 
creature  see,  that  even  if  this  be  the  fact,  the  Honourable 
Mr.  Slumkey  only  appears  in  a  still  more  amiable  and 
radiant  light  than  before,  if  that  be  possible?  Does  not 
even  his  obtuseness  perceive  that  this  amiable  and  touching 
desire  to  carry  out  the  wishes  of  the  constituent  body,  must 
for  ever  endear  him  to  the  hearts  and  souls  of  such  of  his 
fellow  townsmen  as  are  not  worse  than  swine ;  or,  in  other 
words,  who  are  not  as  debased  as  our  contemporary  himself? 
But  such  is  the  wretched  trickery  of  hole-and-corner  Buffery ! 
These  are  not  its  only  artifices.  Treason  is  abroad.  We 
boldly  state,  now  that  we  are  goaded  to  the  disclosure,  and 
we  throw  ourselves  on  the  country  and  its  constables  for 
protection — we  boldly  state  that  secret  preparations  are  at 
this  moment  in  progress  for  a  Buff  ball ;  which  is  to  be  held 
in  a  Buff  town,  in  the  very  heart  and  centre  of  a  Buff 
population ;  which  is  to  be  conducted  by  a  Buff  master  of 


A   WELCOME   DINNER.  381 

the  ceremonies ;  which  is  to  be  attended  by  four  ultra  Buff 
members  of  parliament,  and  the  admission  to  which,  is  to  be 
by  Buff  tickets!  Does  our  fiendish  contemporary  wince? 
Let  him  writhe,  in  impotent  malice,  as  we  pen  the  words, 

WE  WILL  BE  THERE."" 

"  There,  sir,11  said  Pott,  folding  up  the  paper  quite  exhausted, 
"  that  is  the  state  of  the  case  ! "" 

The  landlord  and  waiter  entering  at  the  moment  with 
dinner,  caused  Mr.  Pott  to  lay  his  finger  on  his  lips,  in  token 
that  he  considered  his  life  in  Mr.  Pickwick^  hands,  and 
depended  on  his  secrecy.  Messrs.  Bob  Sawyer  and  Benjamin 
Allen,  who  had  irreverently  fallen  asleep  during  the  reading 
of  the  quotation  from  the  Eatanswill  Gazette,  and  the 
discussion  which  followed  it,  were  roused  by  the  mere  whisper- 
ing of  the  talismanic  word  "  Dinner "  in  their  ears :  and  to 
dinner  they  went  with  good  digestion  waiting  on  appetite, 
and  health  on  both,  and  a  waiter  on  all  three. 

In  the  course  of  the  dinner  and  the  sitting  which  succeeded 
it,  Mr.  Pott  descending,  for  a  few  moments,  to  domestic 
topics,  informed  Mr.  Pickwick  that  the  air  of  Eatanswill  not 
agreeing  with  his  lady,  she  was  then  engaged  in  making  a 
tour  of  different  fashionable  watering-places  with  a  view  to 
the  recovery  of  her  wonted  health  and  spirits ;  this  was  a 
delicate  veiling  of  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Pott,  acting  upon  her 
often  repeated  threat  of  separation,  had,  in  virtue  of  an 
arrangement  negociated  by  her  brother,  the  Lieutenant,  and 
concluded  by  Mr.  Pott,  permanently  retired  with  the  faithful 
body-guard  upon  one  moiety  or  half-part  of  the  annual 
income  and  profits  arising  from  the  editorship  and  sale  of 
the  Eatanswill  Gazette. 

While  the  great  Mr.  Pott  was  dwelling  upon  this  and 
other  matters,  enlivening  the  conversation  from  time  to  time 
with  various  extracts  from  his  own  lucubrations,  a  stern 
stranger,  calling  from  the  window  of  a  stage-coach,  outward 
bound,  which  halted  at  the  inri  to  deliver  packages,  requested 
to  know,  whether,  if  he  stopped  short  on  his  journey  and 


382  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

remained  there  for  the  night,  he  could  be  furnished  with  the 
necessary  accommodation  of  a  bed  and  bedstead. 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  replied  the  landlord. 

"  I  can,  can  I  ?  "  inquired  the  stranger,  who  seemed  habitually 
suspicious  in  look  and  manner. 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  sir,"  replied  the  landlord 

"  Good,"  said  the  stranger.  "  Coachman,  I  get  down  here. 
Guard,  my  carpet-bag ! " 

Bidding  the  other  passengers  good  night,  in  a  rather 
snappish  manner,  the  stranger  alighted.  He  was  a  shortish 
gentleman,  with  very  stiff  black  hair  cut  in  the  porcupine 
or  blacking-brush  style,  and  standing  stiff  and  straight  all 
over  his  head ;  his  aspect  was  pompous  and  threatening ;  his 
manner  was  peremptory;  his  eyes  were  sharp  and  restless; 
and  his  whole  bearing  bespoke  a  feeling  of  great  confidence 
in  himself,  and  a  consciousness  of  immeasurable  superiority 
over  all  other  people. 

This  gentleman  was  shown  into  the  room  originally  assigned 
to  the  patriotic  Mr.  Pott ;  and  the  waiter  remarked,  in  dumb 
astonishment  at  the  singular  coincidence,  that  he  had  no 
sooner  lighted  the  candles  than  the  gentleman,  diving  into 
his  hat,  drew  forth  a  newspaper,  and  began  to  read  it  with 
the  very  same  expression  of  indignant  scorn,  which,  upon  the 
majestic  features  of  Pott,  had  paralysed  his  energies  an  hour 
before.  The  man  observed  too,  that  whereas  Mr.  Potf  s  scorn 
had  been  roused  by  a  newspaper  headed  The  Eatanswill  Inde- 
pendent, this  gentleman's  withering  contempt  was  awakened 
by  a  newspaper  entitled  The  Eatanswill  Gazette. 

"Send  the  landlord,"  said  the  stranger. 

"Yes,  sir,"  rejoined  the  waiter. 

The  landlord  was  sent,  and  came. 

"  Are  you  the  landlord  ? "  inquired  the  gentleman. 

"I  am,  sir,"  replied  the  landlord. 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  "  demanded  the  gentleman. 

"  I  have  not  that  pleasure,  sir,"  rejoined  the  landlord. 

"My  name  is  Slurk,"  said  the  gentleman. 


MR.  SLURK.  383 

The  landlord  slightly  inclined  his  head. 

"  Slurk,  sir,"  repeated  the  gentleman,  haughtily.  "  Do 
you  know  me  now,  man?" 

The  landlord  scratched  his  head,  looked  at  the  ceiling,  and 
at  the  stranger,  and  smiled  feebly. 

*  Do  you  know  me,  man  ? "  inquired  the  stranger,  angrily. 

The  landlord  made  a  strong  effort,  and  at  length  replied: 
"  Well,  sir,  I  do  not  know  you." 

"  Great  Heaven ! "  said  the  stranger,  dashing  his  clenched 
fist  upon  the  table.  "  And  this  is  popularity  !  * 

The  landlord  took  a  step  or  two  towards  the  door;  the 
stranger  fixing  his  eyes  upon  him,  resumed. 

"  This,"  said  the  stranger,  "  this  is  gratitude  for  years  of 
labour  and  study  in  behalf  of  the  masses.  I  alight  wet  and 
weary;  no  enthusiastic  crowds  press  forward  to  greet  their 
champion ;  the  church- bells  are  silent ;  the  very  name  elicits 
no  responsive  feeling  in  their  torpid  bosoms.  It  is  enough," 
said  the  agitated  Mr.  Slurk,  pacing  to  and  fro,  "to  curdle 
the  ink  in  one's  pen,  and  induce  one  to  abandon  their  cause 
for  ever." 

"  Did  you  say  brandy  and  water,  sir  ? "  said  the  landlord, 
venturing  a  hint. 

"  Rum,"  said  Mr.  Slurk,  turning  fiercely  upon  him.  "  Have 
you  got  a  fire  anywhere?" 

"We  can  light  one  directly,  sir,"  said  the  landlord. 

"  Which  will  throw  out  no  heat  until  it  is  bed-time," 
interrupted  Mr.  Slurk.  "  Is  there  anybody  in  the  kitchen  ?  " 

Not  a  soul.  There  was  a  beautiful  fire.  Everybody  had 
gone,  and  the  house  door  was  closed  for  the  night. 

"I  will  drink  my  rum  and  water,"  said  Mr.  Slurk,  "by 
the  kitchen  fire."  So,  gathering  up  his  hat  and  newspaper, 
he  stalked  solemnly  behind  the  landlord  to  that  humble 
apartment,  and  throwing  himself  on  a  settle  by  the  fireside, 
resumed  his  countenance  of  scorn,  and  began  to  read  and 
drink  in  silent  dignity. 

Now,   some   demon   of  discord,   flying  over  the    Saracen's 


384  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Head  at  that  moment,  on  casting  down  his  eyes  in  mere  idle 
curiosity,  happened  to  behold  Slurk  established  comfortably 
by  the  kitchen  fire,  and  Pott  slightly  elevated  with  wine  in 
another  room;  upon  which  the  malicious  demon,  darting 
down  into  the  last-mentioned  apartment  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  passed  at  once  into  the  head  of  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer, 
and  prompted  him  for  his  (the  demon's)  own  evil  purposes  to 
speak  as  follows : 

"I  say,  we've  let  the  fire  out.  It's  uncommonly  cold  after 
the  rain,  isn't  it?" 

"  It  really  is,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  shivering. 

"It  wouldn't  be  a  bad  notion  to  have  a  cigar  by  the 
kitchen  fire,  would  it  ? "  said  Bob  Sawyer,  still  prompted  by 
the  demon  aforesaid. 

"It  would  be  particularly  comfortable,  7  think,"  replied 
Mr.  Pickwick.  "Mr.  Pott,  what  do  you  say?" 

Mr.  Pott  yielded  a  ready  assent;  and  all  four  travellers, 
each  with  his  glass  in  his  hand,  at  once  betook  themselves 
to  the  kitchen,  with  Sam  Weller  heading  the  procession  to 
show  them  the  way. 

The  stranger  was  still  reading ;  he  looked  up  and  started. 
Mr.  Pott  started. 

"What's  the  matter?"  whispered  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"That  reptile  !"  replied  Pott. 

"What  reptile?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  looking  about  him 
for  fear  he  should  tread  on  some  overgrown  black  beetle,  or 
dropsical  spider. 

"That  reptile,"  whispered  Pott,  catching  Mr.  Pickwick  by 
the  arm,  and  pointing  towards  the  stranger.  "That  reptile 
Slurk,  of  the  Independent !  " 

"Perhaps  we  had  better  retire,"  whispered  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Never,  sir,"  rejoined  Pott,  pot-valiant  in  a  double  sense, 
"never."  With  these  words,  Mr.  Pott  took  up  his  position 
on  an  opposite  settle,  and  selecting  one  from  a  little  bundle 
of  newspapers,,  began  to  read  against  his  enemy. 

Mr.  Pott,  of  course,  read  the  Independent,  and  Mr.  Slurk, 


THE   RIVAL  EDITORS.  385 

of  course,  read  the  Gazette;  and  each  gentleman  audibly 
expressed  his  contempt  of  the  other's  compositions  by  bitter 
laughs  and  sarcastic  sniffs ;  whence  they  proceeded  to  more 
open  expressions  of  opinion,  such  as  "absurd,"  "wretched," 
"atrocity,"  "humbug,"  "knavery,"  "dirt,"  "filth,"  "slime," 
"  ditch-water,"  and  other  critical  remarks  of  the  like  nature. 

Both  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  and  Mr.  Ben  Allen  had  beheld  these 
symptoms  of  rivalry  and  hatred,  with  a  degree  of  delight 
which  imparted  great  additional  relish  to  the  cigars  at  which 
they  were  puffing  most  vigorously.  The  moment  they  began 
to  flag,  the  mischievous  Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  addressing  Slurk 
with  great  politeness,  said : 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  look  at  your  paper,  sir,  when  you 
have  quite  done  with  it !  " 

"You  will  find  very  little  to  repay  you  for  your  trouble 
in  this  contemptible  thing,  sir,"  replied  Slurk,  bestowing  a 
Satanic  frown  on  Pott. 

"  You  shall  have  this  presently,"  said  Pott,  looking  up,  pale 
with  rage,  and  quivering  in  his  speech,  from  the  same  cause. 
"  Ha !  ha !  you  will  be  amused  with  \h\s<fellow's  audacity." 

Terrific  emphasis  was  laid  upon  this  "  thing  "  and  "  fellow ; " 
and  the  faces  of  both  editors  began  to  glow  with  defiance. 

"  The  ribaldry  of  this  miserable  man  is  despicably  disgusting," 
said  Pott,  pretending  to  address  Bob  Sawyer,  and  scowling 
upon  Slurk. 

Here,  Mr.  Slurk  laughed  very  heartily,  and  folding  up  the 
paper  so  as  to  get  at  a  fresh  column  conveniently,  said,  that 
the  blockhead  really  amused  him. 

"What  an  impudent  blunderer  this  fellow  is,"  said  Pott, 
turning  from  pink  to  crimson. 

"  Did  you  ever  read  any  of  this  man's  foolery,  sir  ?  "  inquired 
Slurk,  of  Bob  Sawyer. 

"  Never,"  replied  Bob ;  "  is  it  very  bad  ?  " 

"  Oh,  shocking  !  shocking ! "  rejoined  Slurk. 

"  Really  !  Dear  me,  this  is  too  atrocious  ! "  exclaimed  Pott, 
at  this  juncture ;  still  feigning  to  be  absorbed  in  his  reading. 


386  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  If  you  can  wade  through  a  few  sentences  of  malice,  mean- 
ness, falsehood,  perjury,  treachery,  and  cant,"  said  Slurk, 
handing  the  paper  to  Bob,  "  you  will,  perhaps,  be  some- 
what repaid  by  a  laugh  at  the  style  of  this  ungrammatical 
twaddler." 

"What's  that  you  said,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Pott,  looking 
up,  trembling  all  over  with  passion. 

"What's  that  to  you,  sir?"  replied  Slurk. 

"Ungrammatical  twaddler,  was  it,  sir?"  said  Pott. 

"Yes,  sir,  it  was,"  replied  Slurk;  "and  blue  bore,  sir,  if 
you  like  that  better ;  ha !  ha ! " 

Mr.  Pott  retorted  not  a  word  to  this  jocose  insult,  but 
deliberately  folded  up  his  copy  of  the  Independent,  flattened 
it  carefully  down,  crushed  it  beneath  his  boot,  spat  upon  it 
with  great  ceremony,  and  flung  it  into  the  fire. 

"There,  sir,"  said  Pott,  retreating  from  the  stove,  "and 
that's  the  way  I  would  serve  the  viper  who  produces  it,  if  I 
were  not,  fortunately  for  him,  restrained  by  the  laws  of  my 
country." 

"  Serve  him  so,  sir ! "  cried  Slurk,  starting  up.  "  Those 
laws  shall  never  be  appealed  to  by  him,  sir,  in  such  a  case. 
Serve  him  so,  sir ! " 

"  Hear !  hear ! "  said  Bob  Sawyer. 

"Nothing  can  be  fairer,"  observed  Mr.  Ben  Alien. 

"Serve  him  so,  sir!"  reiterated  Slurk,  in  a  loud  voice. 

Mr.  Pott  darted  a  look  of  contempt,  which  might  have 
withered  an  anchor. 

"  Serve  him  so,  sir ! "  reiterated  Slurk,  in  a  louder  voice  than 
before. 

"  I  will  not,  sir,"  rejoined  Pott. 

"Oh,  you  won't,  won't  you,  sir?"  said  Mr.  Slurk,  in  a 
taunting  manner ;  "  you  hear  this,  gentlemen !  He  won't ; 
not  that  he's  afraid ;  oh,  no !  he  won't.  Ha !  ha ! " 

"  I  consider  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Pott,  moved  by  this  sarcasm, 
"  I  consider  you  a  viper.  I  look  upon  you,  sir,  as  a  man  who 
has  placed  himself  beyond  the  pale  of  society,  by  his  most 


ASSAULT  AND  BATTERY.  387 

audacious,  disgraceful,  and  abominable  public  conduct.  I 
view  you,  sir,  personally  and  politically,  in  no  other  light 
than  as  a  most  unparalleled  and  unmitigated  viper." 

The  indignant  Independent  did  not  wait  to  hear  the  end 
of  this  personal  denunciation ;  for,  catching  up  his  carpet-bag 
which  was  well  stuffed  with  moveables,  he  swung  it  in  the 
air  as  Pott  turned  away,  and,  letting  it  fall  with  a  circular 
sweep  on  his  head,  just  at  that  particular  angle  of  the  bag 
where  a  good  thick  hair-brush  happened  to  be  packed,  caused  a 
sharp  crash  to  be  heard  throughout  the  kitchen,  and  brought 
him  at  once  to  the  ground. 

"Gentlemen,"  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  Pott  started  up  and 
seized  the  fire-shovel,  "  gentlemen !  Consider,  for  Heaven's 
sake — help — Sam — here — pray,  gentlemen — interfere,  some- 
body.1' 

Uttering  these  incoherent  exclamations,  Mr.  Pickwick 
rushed  between  the  infuriated  combatants  just  in  time  to 
receive  the  carpet-bag  on  one  side  of  his  body,  and  the  fire- 
shovel  on  the  other.  Whether  the  representatives  of  the 
public  feeling  of  Eatanswill  were  blinded  by  animosity,  or 
(being  both  acute  reasoners)  saw  the  advantage  of  having  a 
third  party  between  them  to  bear  all  the  blows,  certain  it 
is  that  they  paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to  Mr.  Pickwick, 
but  defying  each  other  with  great  spirit  plied  the  carpet-bag 
and  the  fire-shovel  most  fearlessly.  Mr.  Pickwick  would 
unquestionably  have  suffered  severely  for  his  humane  inter- 
ference, if  Mr.  Weller,  attracted  by  his  master's  cries,  had 
not  rushed  in  at  the  moment,  and,  snatching  up  a  meal-sack, 
effectually  stopped  the  conflict  by  drawing  it  over  the  head 
and  shoulders  of  the  mighty  Pott,  and  clasping  him  tight 
round  the  shoulders. 

"Take  avay  that  'ere  bag  from  the  t'other  madman,"  said 
Sam  to  Ben  Allen  and  Bob  Sawyer,  who  had  done  nothing 
but  dodge  round  the  group,  each  with  a  tortoise-shell  lancet 
in  his  hand,  ready  to  bleed  the  first  man  stunned.  "Give 
it  up,  you  wretched  little  creetur,  or  I'll  smother  you  in  it." 


388  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Awed  by  these  threats,  and  quite  out  of  breath,  the  Inde- 
pendent suffered  himself  to  be  disarmed ;  and  Mr.  Weller, 
removing  the  extinguisher  from  Pott,  set  him  free  with  a 
caution. 

"You  take  yourselves  off  to  bed  quietly,11  said  Sam,  "or 
Til  put  you  both  in  it,  and  let  you  fight  it  out  vith  the 
mouth  tied,  as  I  vould  a  dozen  sich,  if  they  played  these 
games.  And  you  have  the  goodness  to  come  this  here  vay, 
sir,  if  you  please.11 

Thus  addressing  his  master,  Sam  took  him  by  the  arm, 
and  led  him  off',  while  the  rival  editors  were  severally  removed 
to  their  beds  by  the  landlord,  under  the  inspection  of  Mr. 
Bob  Sawyer  and  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen ;  breathing,  as  they 
went  away,  many  sanguinary  threats,  and  making  vague 
appointments  for  mortal  combat  next  day.  When  they  came 
to  think  it  over,  however,  it  occurred  to  them  that  they 
could  do  it  much  better  in  print,  so  they  recommenced  deadly 
hostilities  without  delay;  and  all  Eatanswill  rung  with  their 
boldness — on  paper. 

They  had  taken  themselves  off  in  separate  coaches,  early 
next  morning,  before  the  other  travellers  were  stirring;  and 
the  weather  having  now  cleared  up,  the  chaise  companions 
once  more  turned  their  faces  to  London, 


CHAPTER    LII. 

INVOLVING  A  SERIOUS  CHANGE  IN  THE  WELLER  FAMILY,  AND 
THE  UNTIMELY  DOWNFALL  OF  THE  RED-NOSED  MR. 
STIGGINS. 

CONSIDERING  it  a  matter  of  delicacy  to  abstain  from  intro- 
ducing either  Bob  Sawyer  or  Ben  Allen  to  the  young  couple, 
until  they  were  fully  prepared  to  expect  them,  and  wishing 
to  spare  Arabella's  feelings  as  much  as  possible,  Mr.  Pickwick 
proposed  that  he  and  Sam  should  alight  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  George  and  Vulture,  and  that  the  two  young 
men  should  for  the  present  take  up  their  quarters  else- 
where. To  this,  they  very  readily  agreed,  and  the  pro- 
position was  accordingly  acted  upon ;  Mr.  Ben  Allen  and 
Mr.  Bob  Sawyer  betaking  themselves  to  a  sequestered  pot- 
shop  on  the  remotest  confines  of  the  Borough,  behind  the 
bar-door  of  which  their  names  had  in  other  days  very  often 
appeared,  at  the  head  of  long  and  complex  calculations 
worked  in  white  chalk. 

"  Dear  me,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  the  pretty  housemaid,  meeting 
Sam  at  the  door. 

"Dear  me  I  vish  it  vos,  my  dear,"  replied  Sam,  dropping 
behind,  to  let  his  master  get  out  of  hearing.  "  Wot  a  sweet 
lookin1  creetur  you  are,  Mary ! " 

"  Lor,  Mr.  Weller,  what  nonsense  you  do  talk  !  *  said  Mary. 
«0h!  don't,  Mr.  Weller." 


390  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Don't  what,  my  dear?"  said  Sam. 

"Why,  that,"  replied  the  pretty  housemaid.  "Lor,  do 
get  along  with  you."  Thus  admonishing  him,  the  pretty 
housemaid  pushed  Sam  against  the  wall,  declaring  that 
he  had  tumbled  her  cap,  and  put  her  hair  quite  out 
of  curl. 

"And  prevented  what  I  was  going  to  say,  besides,"  added 
Mary.  "There's  a  letter  been  waiting  here  for  you  four 
days ;  you  hadn't  been  gone  away,  half  an  hour,  when  it 
came ;  and  more  than  that,  it's  got,  immediate,  on  the 
outside." 

Vere  is  it,  my  love  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  I  took  care  of  it,  for  you,  or  I  dare  say  it  would  have 
been  lost  long  before  this,"  replied  Mary.  "There,  take  it; 
it's  more  than  you  deserve." 

With  these  words,  after  many  pretty  little  coquettish  doubts 
and  fears,  and  wishes  that  she  might  not  have  lost  it,  Mary 
produced  the  letter  from  behind  the  nicest  little  muslin  tucker 
possible,  and  handed  it  to  Sam,  who  thereupon  kissed  it  with 
much  gallantry  and  devotion. 

"  My  goodness  me ! "  said  Mary,  adjusting  the  tucker,  and 
feigning  unconsciousness,  "you  seem  to  have  grown  very 
fond  of  it  all  at  once." 

To  this  Mr.  Weller  only  replied  by  a  wink,  the  intense 
meaning  of  which  no  description  could  convey  the  faintest 
idea  of;  and,  sitting  himself  down  beside  Mary  on  a  window- 
seat,  opened  the  letter  and  glanced  at  the  contents. 

"  Hallo  ! "  exclaimed  Sam,  "  wot's  all  this  ?  " 

"Nothing  the  matter,  I  hope?"  said  Mary,  peeping  over 
his  shoulder. 

"  Bless  them  eyes  o'  yourn ! "  said  Sam,  looking  up. 

"Never  mind  my  eyes;  you  had  much  better  read  your 
letter,"  said  the  pretty  housemaid;  and  as  she  said  so,  she 
made  the  eyes  twinkle  with  such  slyness  and  beauty  that 
they  were  perfectly  irresistible. 

Sam  refreshed  himself  with  a  kiss,  and  read  as  follows : 


AN  AFFECTING  LETTER.  391 

"  Markis  Gran 

By  darken 


"My  dear  Sammle, 

"I  am  weiy  sorry  to  have  the  pleasure  of  bein  a  Bear  of 
ill  news  your  Mother  in  law  cort  cold  consekens  of  impru- 
dently settin  too  long  on  the  damp  grass  in  the  rain  a 
hearin  of  a  shepherd  who  warnt  able  to  leave  off  till  late 
at  night  owen  to  his  havin  vound  his-self  up  vith  brandy 
and  vater  and  not  being  able  to  stop  hisself  till  he  got  a 
little  sober  which  took  a  many  hours  to  do  the  doctor  says 
that  if  she'd  svallo'd  varm  brandy  and  vater  artervards 
insted  of  afore  she  mightn't  have  been  no  vus  her  veels  wos 
immedetly  greased  and  everythink  done  to  set  her  agoin  as 
could  be  inwented  your  farther  had  hopes  as  she  vould  have 
vorked  round  as  usual  but  just  as  she  wos  a  turnen  the 
corner  my  boy  she  took  the  wrong  road  and  vent  down  hill 
vith  a  welocity  you  never  see  and  notvithstandin  that  the 
drag  wos  put  on  drectly  by  the  medikel  man  it  wornt  of  no 
use  at  all  for  she  paid  the  last  pike  at  twenty  minutes  afore 
six  o'clock  yesterday  evenin  havin  done  the  jouney  wery 
much  under  the  reglar  time  vich  praps  was  partly  owen  to 
her  haven  taken  in  wery  little  luggage  by  the  vay  your 
father  says  that  if  you  vill  come  and  see  me  Sammy  he  vill 
take  it  as  a  wery  great  favor  for  I  am  wery  lonely  Samivel 
n  b  he  vill  have  it  spelt  that  vay  vich  I  say  ant  right  and 
as  there  is  sich  a  many  things  to  settle  he  is  sure  your 
guvner  wont  object  of  course  he  vill  not  Sammy  for  I  knows 
him  better  so  he  sends  his  dooty  in  which  I  join  and  am 
Samivel  infernally  yours 

"ToNY  VELLER." 

"Wot  a  incomprehensible  letter,"  said  Sam;  "who's  to 
know  wot  it  means,  vith  all  this  he-ing  and  I-ing  !  It  ain't 
my  father's  writin',  'cept  this  here  signater  in  print  letters; 
that's  his." 


392  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Perhaps  he  got  somebody  to  write  it  for  him,  and  signed 
it  himself  afterwards,"  said  the  pretty  housemaid. 

"  Stop  a  minit,"  replied  Sam,  running  over  the  letter  again, 
and  pausing  here  and  there,  to  reflect,  as  he  did  so.  "  You've 
hit  it.  The  gen'l'm'n  as  wrote  it  wos  a  tellin'  all  about  the 
misfortun'  in  a  proper  vay,  and  then  my  father  comes  a 
lookin'  over  him,  and  complicates  the  whole  concern  by  puttm' 
his  oar  in.  That's  just  the  wery  sort  o'  thing  he'd  do. 
You're  right,  Mary,  my  dear." 

Having  satisfied  himself  on  this  point,  Sam  read  the  letter 
all  over,  once  more,  and,  appearing  to  form  a  clear  notion 
of  its  contents  for  the  first  time,  ejaculated  thoughtfully,  as 
he  folded  it  up : 

"  And  so  the  poor  creatur's  dead !  I'm  sorry  for  it.  She 
warn't  a  bad-disposed  'ooman,  if  them  shepherds  had  let  her 
alone.  I'm  wery  sorry  for  it." 

Mr.  Weller  uttered  these  words  in  so  serious  a  manner,  that 
the  pretty  housemaid  cast  down  her  eyes  and  looked  very  grave. 

"Hows'ever,"  said  Sam,  putting  the  letter  in  his  pocket 
with  a  gentle  sigh,  "it  wos  to  be — and  wos,  as  the  old  lady 
said  arter  she'd  married  the  footman.  Can't  be  helped  now, 
can  it,  Mary  ?  " 

Mary  shook  her  head,  and  sighed  too. 

"  I  must  apply  to  the  hemperor  for  leave  of  absence,"  said 
Sam. 

Mary  sighed  again.     The  letter  was  so  very  affecting. 

"  Good  bye ! "  said  Sam. 

"Good  bye,"  rejoined  the  pretty  housemaid,  turning  her 
head  away. 

"Well,  shake  hands,  won't  you?"  said  Sam. 

The  pretty  housemaid  put  out  a  hand  which,  although  it 
was  a  housemaid's,  was  a  very  small  one,  and  rose  to  go. 

"  I  shan't  be  wery  long  avay,"  said  Sam. 

"You're  always  away,"  said  Mary,  giving  her  head  the 
slightest  possible  toss  in  the  air.  "You  no  sooner  come, 
Mr.  Weller,  than  you  go  again." 


LEAVE   OF  ABSENCE  GRANTED.  393 

Mr.  Weller  drew  the  household  beauty  closer  to  him,  and 
entered  upon  a  whispering  conversation,  which  had  not  pro- 
ceeded far,  when  she  turned  her  face  round  and  condescended 
to  look  at  him  again.  When  they  parted,  it  was  somehow 
or  other  indispensably  necessary  for  her  to  go  to  her  room, 
and  arrange  the  cap  and  curls  before  she  could  think  of 
presenting  herself  to  her  mistress;  which  preparatory  ceremony 
she  went  off  to  perform,  bestowing  many  nods  and  smiles  on 
Sam  over  the  banisters  as  she  tripped  up  stairs. 

"I  shan't  be  avay  more  than  a  day,  or  two,  sir,  at  the 
farthest,"  said  Sam,  when  he  had  communicated  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick the  intelligence  of  his  father's  loss. 

"  As  long  as  may  be  necessary,  Sam,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick, 
"you  have  my  full  permission  to  remain.11 
Sam  bowed. 

"  You  will  tell  your  father,  Sam,  that  if  I  can  be  of  any 
assistance  to  him  in  his  present  situation,  I  shall  be  most 
willing  and  ready  to  lend  him  any  aid  in  my  power,""  said 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Thankee,  sir,"  rejoined  Sam.     "  I'll  mention  it,  sir." 
And  with  some  expressions  of  mutual  good-will  and  interest, 
master  and  man  separated. 

It  was  just  seven  o'clock  when  Samuel  Weller,  alighting 
from  the  box  of  a  stage-coach  which  passed  through  Dorking, 
stood  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  Marquis  of  Granby. 
It  was  a  cold  dull  evening ;  the  little  street  looked  dreary  and 
dismal ;  and  the  mahogany  countenance  of  the  noble  and 
gallant  Marquis  seemed  to  wear  a  more  sad  and  melancholy 
expression  than  it  was  wont  to  do,  as  it  swung  to  and  fro, 
creaking  mournfully  in  the  wind.  The  blinds  were  pulled 
down,  and  the  shutters  partly  closed ;  of  the  knot  of  loungers 
that  usually  collected  about  the  door,  not  one  was  to  be  seen ; 
the  place  was  silent  and  desolate. 

Seeing  nobody  of  whom  he  could  ask  any  preliminary 
questions,  Sam  walked  softly  in.  Glancing  round,  he  quickly 
recognised  his  parent  in  the  distance. 


394  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

The  widower  was  seated  at  a  small  round  table  in  the  little 
room  behind  the  bar,  smoking  a  pipe,  with  his  eyes  intently 
fixed  upon  the  fire.  The  funeral  had  evidently  taken  place 
that  day;  for  attached  to  his  hat,  which  he  still  retained  on 
his  head,  was  a  hatband  measuring  about  a  yard  and  a  half  in 
length,  which  hung  over  the  top  rail  of  the  chair  and  streamed 
negligently  down.  Mr.  Weller  was  in  a  very  abstracted  and 
contemplative  mood.  Notwithstanding  that  Sam  called  him 
by  name  several  times,  he  still  continued  to  smoke  with  the 
same  fixed  and  quiet  countenance,  and  was  only  roused  ulti- 
mately by  his  son's  placing  the  palm  of  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  Sammy,1'  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  you're  welcome."" 

"  I've  been  a  callin'  to  you  half  a  dozen  times,"  said  Sam, 
hanging  his  hat  on  a  peg,  "  but  you  didn't  hear  me." 

"No,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  again  looking  thought- 
fully at  the  fire.  "I  wos  in  a  referee,  Sammy." 

"  Wot  about  ? "  inquired  Sam,  drawing  his  chair  up  to  the 
fire. 

"In  a  referee,  Sammy,"  replied  the  elder  Mr.  Weller, 
"  regarding  her,  Samivel."  Here  Mr.  Weller  jerked  his  head 
in  the  direction  of  Dorking  churchyard,  in  mute  explanation 
that  his  words  referred  to  the  late  Mrs.  Weller. 

"I  wos  a  thinkin',  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  eyeing  his 
son,  with  great  earnestness,  over  his  pipe ;  as  if  to  assure  him 
that  however  extraordinary  and  incredible  the  declaration 
might  appear,  it  was  nevertheless  calmly  and  deliberately 
uttered.  "I  wos  a  thinkin',  Sammy,  that  upon  the  whole  I 
wos  wery  sorry  she  wos  gone." 

"  Veil,  and  so  you  ought  to  be,"  replied  Sam. 

Mr.  Weller  nodded  his  acquiescence  in  the  sentiment,  and 
again  fastening  his  eyes  on  the  fire,  shrouded  himself  in  a 
cloud,  and  mused  deeply. 

"  Those  wos  wery  sensible  observations  as  she  made,  Sammy," 
said  Mr.  Weller,  driving  the  smoke  away  with  his  hand,  after 
a  long  silence. 


vSENSIBLE   OBSERVATIONS.  395 

"  Wot  observations  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"Them  as  she  made,  arter  she  was  took  ill,"  replied  the 
old  gentleman. 

"Wot  was  they?" 

"Somethin'  to  this  here  effect.  'Veller,'  she  says,  Tin 
afeard  I've  not  done  by  you  quite  wot  I  ought  to  have  done ; 
you're  a  wery  kind-hearted  man,  and  I  might  ha'  made  your 
home  more  comfortabler.  I  begin  to  see  now,'  she  says,  *  ven 
it's  too  late,  that  if  a  married  'ooman  vishes  to  be  religious, 
she  should  begin  vith  dischargin'  her  dooties  at  home,  and 
makin'  them  as  is  about  her  cheerful  and  happy,  and  that 
vile  she  goes  to  church,  or  chapel,  or  wot  not,  at  all  proper 
times,  she  should  be  wery  careful  not  to  con-wert  this  sort 
o'  thing  into  a  excuse  for  idleness  or  self-indulgence.  I  have 
done  this,'  she  says,  'and  I've  vasted  time  and  substance  on 
them  as  has  done  it  more  than  me;  but  I  hope  ven  I'm 
gone,  Veller,  that  you'll  think  on  me  as  I  wos  afore  I  know'd 
them  people,  and  as  I  raly  wos  by  naturV  *  Susan,'  says 
I, — I  wos  took  up  wery  short  by  this,  Samivel ;  I  von't  deny 
it,  my  boy — 'Susan,'  I  says,  *  you've  been  a  wery  good  vife 
to  me,  altogether ;  don't  say  nothin'  at  all  about  it ;  keep  a 
good  heart  my  dear;  and  you'll  live  to  see  me  punch  that 
'ere  Stiggins's  head  yet.'  She  smiled  at  this,  Samivel,"  said 
the  old  gentleman,  stifling  a  sigh  with  his  pipe,  "  but  she 
died  arter  all ! " 

"  Veil,"  said  Sam,  venturing  to  offer  a  little  homely  consola- 
tion, after  the  lapse  of  three  or  four  minutes,  consumed  by 
the  old  gentleman  in  slowly  shaking  his  head  from  side  to 
side,  and  solemnly  smoking;  "veil,  gov'ner,  ve  must  all 
come  to  it,  one  day  or  another." 

"  So  we  must,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller  the  elder. 

"There's  a  Providence  in  it  all,"  said  Sam. 

"O'  course  there  is,"  replied  his  father  with  a  nod  of 
grave  approval.  "Wot  'ud  become  of  the  undertakers 
vithout  it,  Sammy  ?  " 

Lost   in   the   immense  field  of  conjecture  opened  by   this 


396  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

reflection,  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  laid  his  pipe  on  the  table, 
and  stirred  the  fire  with  a  meditative  visage. 

While  the  old  gentleman  was  thus  engaged,  a  very  buxom  - 
looking  cook,  dressed  in  mourning,  who  had  been  bustling 
about,  in  the  bar,  glided  into  the  room,  and  bestowing  many 
smirks  of  recognition  upon  Sam,  silently  stationed  herself  at 
the  back  of  his  father's  chair,  and  announced  her  presence 
by  a  slight  cough :  the  which,  being  disregarded,  was  followed 
by  a  louder  one. 

"  Hallo ! "  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  dropping  the  poker 
as  he  looked  round,  and  hastily  drew  his  chair  away.  "  Wot's 
the  matter  now?" 

"  Have  a  cup  of  tea,  there's  a  good  soul,"  replied  the  buxom 
female,  coaxingly. 

"I  von't,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  somewhat  boisterous 
manner,  "  111  see  you —  "  Mr.  Weller  hastily  checked  himself, 
and  added  in  a  low  tone,  "furder  fust." 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear !  How  adversity  does  change  people  ! " 
said  the  lady,  looking  upwards. 

"It's  the  only  think  'twixt  this  and  the  doctor  as  shall 
change  my  condition,"  muttered  Mr.  Weller. 

"I  really  never  saw  a  man  so  cross,"  said  the  buxom 
female. 

"Never  mind.  It's  all  for  my  own  good;  vich  is  the 
reflection  vith  wich  the  penitent  schoolboy  comforted  his 
feelin's  ven  they  flogged  him,"  rejoined  the  old  gentleman. 

The  buxom  female  shook  her  head  with  a  compassionate 
and  sympathising  air;  and,  appealing  to  Sam,  inquired 
whether  his  father  really  ought  not  to  make  an  effort  to  keep 
up,  and  not  give  way  to  that  lowness  of  spirits. 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Samuel,"  said  the  buxom  female,  "  as  I 
was  telling  him  yesterday,  he  will  feel  lonely,  he  can't  expect 
but  what  he  should,  sir,  but  he  should  keep  up  a  good  heart, 
because,  dear  me,  I'm  sure  we  all  pity  his  loss,  and  are  ready 
to  do  anything  for  him ;  and  there's  no  situation  in  life  so 
bad,  Mr.  Samuel,  that  it  can't  be  mended.  Which  is  what 


PERILOUS   POSITION   OF  A  WIDOWER.     397 

a  very  worthy  person  said  to  me  when  my  husband  died.11 
Here  the  speaker,  putting  her  hand  before  her  mouth,  coughed 
again,  and  looked  affectionately  at  the  elder  Mr.  Weller. 

"As  I  don't  rekvire  any  o1  your  conversation  just  now, 
mum,  vill  you  have  the  goodness  to  re-tire  ?"  inquired  Mr. 
Weller  in  a  grave  and  steady  voice. 

"Well,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  the  buxom  female,  "I'm  sure  I 
only  spoke  to  you  out  of  kindness.1'1 

"Wery  likely,  mum,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Samivel, 
show  the  lady  out,  and  shut  the  door  arter  her." 

This  hint  was  not  lost  upon  the  buxom  female ;  for  she 
at  once  left  the  room,  and  slammed  the  door  behind  her, 
upon  which  Mr.  Weller,  senior,  falling  back  in  his  chair  in 
a  violent  perspiration,  said : 

"Sammy,  if  I  wos  to  stop  here  alone  vun  veek — only  vun 
veek,  my  boy — that  'ere  'ooman  'ud  marry  me  by  force  and 
wiolence  afore  it  was  over.'1 

"  Wot !     Is  she  so  wery  fond  on  you  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Fond ! "  replied  his  father,  "  I  can't  keep  her  avay  from 
me.  If  I  was  locked  up  in  a  fire-proof  chest  vith  a  patent 
Brahmin,  sheM  find  means  to  get  at  me,  Sammy." 

"  Wot  a  thing  it  is,  to  be  so  sought  arter ! "  observed  Sam, 
smiling. 

"I  don^  take  no  pride  out  on  it,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr. 
Weller,  poking  the  fire  vehemently,  "  it's  a  horrid  sitiwation. 
I'm  actiwally  drove  out  o'  house  and  home  by  it.  The 
breath  was  scarcely  out  o'  your  poor  mother-in-law's  body, 
ven  vun  old  'ooman  sends  me  a  pot  o'  jam,  and  another  a  pot 
o'  jelly,  and  another  brews  a  blessed  large  jug  o'  camomile-tea, 
vich  she  brings  in  vith  her  own  hands."  Mr.  Weller  paused 
with  an  aspect  of  intense  disgust,  and,  looking  round,  added 
in  a  whisper:  "They  wos  all  widders,  Sammy,  all  on  'em, 
'cept  the  camomile-tea  vun,  as  wos  a  single  young  lady  o' 
fifty-three." 

Sam  gave  a  comical  look  in  reply,  and  the  old  gentleman 
having  broken  an  obstinate  lump  of  coal,  with  a  countenance 


398  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

expressive  of  as  much  earnestness  and  malice  as  if  it  had 
been  the  head  of  one  of  the  widows  last-mentioned,  said : 

"In  short,  Sammy,  I  feel  that  I  ain't  safe  anyveres  but 
on  the  box.11 

"  How  are  you  safer  there  than  anyveres  else  ?  "  interrupted 
Sam. 

"'Cos  a  coachman's  a  privileged  indiwidual,"  replied  Mr. 
Weller,  looking  fixedly  at  his  son.  "'Cos  a  coachman  may 
do  vithout  suspicion  wot  other  men  may  not;  'cos  a  coach- 
man may  be  on  the  wery  amicablest  terms  with  eighty  mile 
o'  females,  and  yet  nobody  think  that  he  ever  means  to  marry 
any  vun  among  'em.  And  wot  other  man  can  say  the  same, 
Sammy  ?  " 

"Veil,  there's  somethin'  in  that,"  said  Sam. 

"If  your  gov'ner  had  been  a  coachman,"  reasoned  Mr. 
Weller,  "do  you  s'pose  as  that  'ere  jury  'ud  ever  ha'  con- 
wicted  him,  s'posin'  it  possible  as  the  matter  could  ha'  gone 
to  that  extremity  ?  They  dustn't  ha'  done  it.11 

"  Wy  not  ?  "  said  Sam,  rather  disparagingly. 

"Wy  not!"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller;  "'cos  it  'ud  ha1  gone 
agin  their  consciences.  A  reg'lar  coachman's  a  sort  o'  con- 
nectin'  link  betwixt  singleness  and  matrimony,  and  every 
practicable  man  knows  it." 

"Wot!  You  mean,  they're  gen'ral  fav'rites,  and  nobody 
takes  adwantage  on  'em,  p'raps  ?  "  said  Sam. 

His  father  nodded. 

"  How  it  ever  come  to  that  'ere  pass,"  resumed  the  parent 
Weller,  "I  can't  say.  Wy  it  is  that  long-stage  coachmen 
possess  such  insiniwations,  and  is  alvays  looked  up  to — a- 
dored  I  may  say — by  ev'ry  young  'ooman  in  ev'ry  town  he 
vurks  through,  I  don't  know.  I  only  know  that  so  it  is.  It's 
a  reg'lation  of  natur — a  dispensary,  as  your  poor  mother-in- 
law  used  to  say." 

"A  dispensation,"  said  Sam,  correcting  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Wery  good,  Samivel,  a  dispensation  if  you  like  it  better," 
returned  Mr.  Weller ;  "  /  call  it  a  dispensary,  and  it's  alvays 


INVESTMENTS.  399 

writ  up  so,  at  the  places  vere  they  gives  you  physic  for  nothin"1 
in  your  own  bottles ;  that's  all." 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Weller  re-filled  and  re-lighted  his 
pipe,  and  once  more  summoning  up  a  meditative  expression 
of  countenance,  continued  as  follows  : 

"Therefore,  my  boy,  as  I  do  not  see  the  adwisability  o' 
stoppin1  here  to  be  marrid  vether  I  vant  to  or  not,  and  as  at 
the  same  time  I  do  not  vish  to  separate  myself  from  them 
interestin'  members  o'  society  altogether,  I  have  come  to  the 
determination  o'  drivin'  the  Safety,  and  puttin'  up  vunce 
more  at  the  Bell  Savage,  vich  is  my  nat'ral-born  element, 
Sammy."" 

"  And  wot's  to  become  o'  the  bis'ness  ? "  inquired  Sam. 

"  The  bis'ness,  Samivel,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  "  good- 
vill,  stock,  and  fixters,  vill  be  sold  by  private  contract;  and 
out  o'  the  money,  two  hundred  pound,  agreeable  to  a  rekvest 
o"1  your  mother-in-law's  to  me  a  little  afore  she  died,  vill  be 
inwested  in  your  name  in — wot  do  you  call  them  things 
agin?" 

"  Wot  things  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"Them  things  as  is  always  a  goin'  up  and  down,  in  the 
City." 

"  Omnibuses  ?  "  suggested  Sam. 

"  Nonsense,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "  Them  things  as  is 
alvays  a  fluctooatin',  and  gettin'  theirselves  inwolved  somehow 
or  another  vith  the  national  debt,  and  the  checquers  bills, 
and  all  that." 

"  Oh !  the  funds,"  said  Sam. 

"Ah!"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller,  "the  funs;  two  hundred 
pounds  o'  the  money  is  to  be  inwested  for  you,  Samivel,  in 
the  funs ;  four  and  a  half  per  cent,  reduced  counsels,  Sammy." 

"Wery  kind  o'  the  old  lady  to  think  o'  me,"  said  Sam, 
"and  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  her." 

"The  rest  vill  be  inwested  in  my  name,"  continued  the 
elder  Mr.  Weller ;  "  and  ven  I'm  took  off  the  road,  it'll  come 
to  you,  so  take  care  you  don't  spend  it  all  at  vunst,  my  boy, 


400  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

and  mind  that  no  widder  gets  a  inklin'  o'  your  fortun',  or 
you're  done." 

Having  delivered  this  warning,  Mr.  Weller  resumed  his 
pipe  with  a  more  serene  countenance ;  the  disclosure  of  these 
matters  appearing  to  have  eased  his  mind  considerably. 

"  Somebody's  a  tappin'  at  the  door,11  said  Sam. 

"  Let  'em  tap,"  replied  his  father,  with  dignity. 

Sam  acted  upon  the  direction.  There  was  another  tap, 
and  another,  and  then  a  long  row  of  taps ;  upon  which  Sam 
inquired  why  the  tapper  was  not  admitted. 

"  Hush,"  whispered  Mr.  Weller,  with  apprehensive  looks, 
"  don't  take  no  notice  on  'em,  Sammy,  it's  vun  o'  the  widders, 
p'raps." 

No  notice  being  taken  of  the  taps,  the  unseen  visitor,  after 
a  short  lapse,  ventured  to  open  the  door  and  peep  in.  It 
was  no  female  head  that  was  thrust  in  at  the  partially  opened 
door,  but  the  long  black  locks  and  red  face  of  Mr.  Stiggins. 
Mr.  Weller's  pipe  fell  from  his  hands. 

The  reverend  gentleman  gradually  opened  the  door  by 
almost  imperceptible  degrees,  until  the  aperture  was  just  wide 
enough  to  admit  of  the  passage  of  his  lank  body,  when  he 
glided  into  the  room  and  closed  it  after  him  with  great  care 
and  gentleness.  Turning  towards  Sam,  and  raising  his  hands 
and  eyes  in  token  of  the  unspeakable  sorrow  with  which  he 
regarded  the  calamity  that  had  befallen  the  family,  he  carried 
the  high-backed  chair  to  his  old  corner  by  the  fire,  and, 
seating  himself  on  the  very  edge,  drew  forth  a  brown  pocket- 
handkerchief,  and  applied  the  same  to  his  optics. 

While  this  was  going  forward,  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  sat 
back  in  his  chair,  with  his  eyes  wide  open,  his  hands  planted 
on  his  knees,  and  his  whole  countenance  expressive  of  absorb- 
ing and  overwhelming  astonishment.  Sam  sat  opposite  him 
in  perfect  silence,  waiting,  with  eager  curiosity,  for  the 
termination  of  the  scene. 

Mr.  Stiggins  kept  the  brown  pocket-handkerchief  before 
his  eyes  for  some  minutes,  moaning  decently  meanwhile,  and 


ANXIOUS  INQUIRIES.  401 

then,  mastering  his  feelings  by  a  strong  effort,  put  it  in  his 
pocket  and  buttoned  it  up.  After  this,  he  stirred  the  fire ; 
after  that,  he  rubbed  his  hands  and  looked  at  Sam. 

"Oh  my  young  friend,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  breaking  the 
silence  in  a  very  low  voice,  "  here's  a  sorrowful  affliction ! " 

Sam  nodded,  very  slightly. 

"For  the  man  of  wrath,  too!1'  added  Mr.  Stiggins;  "it 
makes  a  vessel's  heart  bleed ! " 

Mr.  Weller  was  overheard  by  his  son  to  murmur  some- 
thing relative  to  making  a  vessel's  nose  bleed;  but  Mr. 
Stiggins  heard  him  not. 

"Do  you  know,  young  man,"  whispered  Mr.  Stiggins, 
drawing  his  chair  closer  to  Sam,  "whether  she  has  left 
Emanuel  anything?" 

"Who's  he?"  inquired  Sam. 

"  The  chapel,"  replied  Mr.  Stiggins ;  "  our  chapel ;  our  fold, 
Mr.  Samuel." 

"  She  hasn't  left  the  fold  nothin',  nor  the  shepherd  nothin', 
nor  the  animals  nothin',"  said  Sam,  decisively ;  "  nor  the  dogs 
neither." 

Mr.  Stiggins  looked  slyly  at  Sam;  glanced  at  the  old 
gentleman,  who  was  sitting  with  his  eyes  closed,  as  if  asleep ; 
and  drawing  his  chair  still  nearer,  said : 

"  Nothing  for  me^  Mr.  Samuel  ?  " 

Sam  shook  his  head. 

"  I  think  there's  something,"  said  Stiggins,  turning  as  pale 
as  he  could  turn.  "  Consider,  Mr.  Samuel ;  no  little  token  ?  " 

"  Not  so  much  as  the  vorth  o'  that  'ere  old  umberella  o' 
yourn,"  replied  Sam. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Stiggins,  hesitatingly,  after  a  few 
moments'  deep  thought,  "perhaps  she  recommended  me  to 
the  care  of  the  man  of  wrath,  Mr.  Samuel  ? " 

"  I  think  that's  wery  likely,  from  what  he  said,"  rejoined 
Sam ;  "  he  wos  a  speakin'  about  you,  jist  now." 

"Was  he,  though?"  exclaimed  Stiggins  brightening  up. 
"  Ah !  He's  changed,  I  dare  say.  We  might  live  very 

VOL.  li.  2  D 


402  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

comfortably  together  now,  Mr.  Samuel,  eh  ?  I  could  take  care 
of  his  property  when  you  are  away — good  care,  you  see." 

Heaving  a  long-drawn  sigh,  Mr.  Stiggins  paused  for  a 
response.  Sam  nodded,  and  Mr.  Weller,  the  elder,  gave 
vent  to  an  extraordinary  sound,  which  being  neither  a  groan, 
nor  a  grunt,  nor  a  gasp,  nor  a  growl,  seemed  to  partake  in 
some  degree  of  the  character  of  all  four. 

Mr.  Stiggins,  encouraged  by  this  sound,  which  he  under- 
stood to  betoken  remorse  or  repentance,  looked  about  him, 
rubbed  his  hands,  wept,  smiled,  wept  again,  and  then,  walking 
softly  across  the  room  to  a  well-remembered  shelf  in  one 
corner,  took  down  a  tumbler,  and  with  great  deliberation 
put  four  lumps  of  sugar  in  it.  Having  got  thus  far,  he 
looked  about  him  again,  and  sighed  grievously;  with  that, 
he  walked  softly  into  the  bar,  and  presently  returning  with 
the  tumbler  half  full  of  pine-apple  rum,  advanced  to  the 
kettle  which  was  singing  gaily  on  the  hob,  mixed  his  grog, 
stirred  it,  sipped  it,  sat  down,  and  taking  a  long  and  hearty 
pull  at  the  rum  and  water,  stopped  for  breath. 

The  elder  Mr.  Weller,  who  still  continued  to  make  various 
strange  and  uncouth  attempts  to  appear  asleep,  offered  not 
a  single  word  during  these  proceedings;  but  when  Stiggins 
stopped  for  breath,  he  darted  upon  him,  and  snatching  the 
tumbler  from  his  hand,  threw  the  remainder  of  the  rum  and 
water  in  his  face,  and  the  glass  itself  into  the  grate.  Then, 
seizing  the  reverend  gentleman  firmly  by  the  collar,  he 
suddenly  fell  to  kicking  him  most  furiously :  accompanying 
every  application  of  his  top-boots  to  Mr.  Stiggins's  person, 
with  sundry  violent  and  incoherent  anathemas  upon  his  limbs, 
eyes,  and  body. 

" Sammy,1'  said  Mr.  Weller,  "put  my  hat  on  tight  for 
me." 

Sam  dutifully  adjusted  the  hat  with  the  long  hatband  more 
firmly  on  his  father's  head,  and  the  old  gentleman,  resuming 
his  kicking  with  greater  agility  than  before,  tumbled  with 
Mr.  Stiggins  through  the  bar,  and  through  the  passage,  out 


MR.  STIGGINS  IS  EJECTED.  403 

at  the  front  door,  and  so  into  the  street;  the  kicking  con- 
tinuing the  whole  way,  and  increasing  in  vehemence,  rather 
than  diminishing,  every  time  the  top-boot  was  lifted. 

It  was  a  beautiful  and  exhilarating  sight  to  see  the  red- 
nosed  man  writhing  in  Mr.  Welter's  grasp,  and  his  whole 
frame  quivering  with  anguish  as  kick  followed  kick  in  rapid 
succession ;  it  was  a  still  more  exciting  spectacle  to  behold 
Mr.  Weller,  after  a  powerful  struggle,  immersing  Mr.  Stiggins's 
head  in  a  horse-trough  full  of  water,  and  holding  it  there, 
until  he  was  half  suffocated. 

"  There ! "  said  Mr.  Weller,  throwing  all  his  energy  into 
one  most  complicated  kick,  as  he  at  length  permitted  Mr. 
Stiggins  to  withdraw  his  head  from  the  trough,  "send  any 
vun  o1  them  lazy  shepherds  here,  and  Fll  pound  him  to  a 
jelly  first,  and  drownd  him  artervards !  Sammy,  help  me 
in,  and  fill  me  a  small  glass  of  brandy.  Fm  out  o"1  breath, 
my  boy." 


CHAPTER    LIII. 

COMPRISING  THE  FINAL  EXIT  OF  MR.  JINGLE  AND  JOB  TROTTER; 
WITH  A  GREAT  MORNING  OF  BUSINESS  IN  GRAY^S  INN  SQUARE. 
CONCLUDING  WITH  A  DOUBLE  KNOCK  AT  MR.  PERKER^S  DOOR. 

WHEN  Arabella,  after  some  gentle  preparation,  and  many 
assurances  that  there  was  not  the  least  occasion  for  being- 
low-spirited,  was  at  length  made  acquainted  by  Mr.  Pickwick 
with  the  unsatisfactory  result  of  his  visit  to  Birmingham, 
she  burst  into  tears,  and  sobbing  aloud,  lamented  in  moving 
terms  that  she  should  have  been  the  unhappy  cause  of  any 
estrangement  between  a  father  and  his  son. 

"My  dear  girl,""  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  kindly,  "it  is  no  fault 
of  yours.  It  was  impossible  to  foresee  that  the  old  gentle- 
man would  be  so  strongly  prepossessed  against  his  son's 
marriage,  you  know,  I  am  sure,"  added  Mr.  Pickwick,  glancing 
at  her  pretty  face,  "he  can  have  very  little  idea  of  the 
pleasure  he  denies  himself." 

"Oh  my  dear  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Arabella,  "what  shall 
we  do,  if  he  continues  to  be  angry  with  us?" 

"Why,  wait  patiently,  my  dear,  until  he  thinks  better  of 
it,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  cheerfully. 

**  But,  dear  Mr.  Pickwick,  what  is  to  become  of  Nathaniel 
if  his  father  withdraws  his  assistance  ? "  urged  Arabella. 

"  In  that  case,  my  love,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  I  will 
venture  to  prophesy  that  he  will  find  some  other  friend  who 
will  not  be  backward  in  helping  him  to  start  in  the  world." 


EARLY   VISIT  TO  GRAY'S  INN.  405 

The  significance  of  this  reply  was  not  so  well  disguised 
by  Mr.  Pickwick  but  that  Arabella  understood  it.  So, 
throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  kissing  him  affec- 
tionately, she  sobbed  louder  than  before. 

"  Come,  come,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  taking  her  hand,  "  we 
will  wait  here  a  few  days  longer,  and  see  whether  he  writes 
or  takes  any  other  notice  of  your  husband's  communication. 
If  not,  I  have  thought  of  half  a  dozen  plans,  any  one  of  which 
would  make  you  happy  at  once.  There,  my  dear,  there  ! " 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Pickwick  gently  pressed  Arabella's 
hand,  and  bade  her  dry  her  eyes,  and  not  distress  her  husband. 
Upon  which,  Arabella,  who  was  one  of  the  best  little  creatures 
alive,  put  her  handkerchief  in  her  reticule,  and  by  the  time 
Mr.  Winkle  joined  them,  exhibited  in  full  lustre  the  same 
beaming  smiles  and  sparkling  eyes  that  had  originally  capti- 
vated him. 

"  This  is  a  distressing  predicament  for  these  young  people,11 
thought  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  he  dressed  himself  next  morning. 
"  I'll  walk  up  to  Perker's,  and  consult  him  about  the  matter.11 

As  Mr.  Pickwick  was  further  prompted  to  betake  himself 
to  Gray's  Inn  Square  by  an  anxious  desire  to  come  to  a 
pecuniary  settlement  with  the  kind-hearted  little  attorney 
without  further  delay,  he  made  a  hurried  breakfast,  and 
executed  his  intention  so  speedily,  that  ten  o'clock  had  not 
struck  when  he  reached  Gray's  Inn. 

It  still  wanted  ten  minutes  to  the  hour  when  he  had 
ascended  the  staircase  on  which  Perker's  chambers  were. 
The  clerks  had  not  arrived  yet,  and  he  beguiled  the  time 
by  looking  out  of  the  staircase  window. 

The  healthy  light  of  a  fine  October  morning  made  even 
the  dingy  old  houses  brighten  up  a  little :  some  of  the  dusty 
windows  actually  looking  almost  cheerful  as  the  sun's  rays 
gleamed  upon  them.  Clerk  after  clerk  hastened  into  the  square 
by  one  or  other  of  the  entrances,  and  looking  up  at  the  Hall 
clock,  accelerated  or  decreased  his  rate  of  walking  according 
to  the  time  at  which  his  office  hours  nominally  commenced ; 


406  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  half-past  nine  (/clock  people  suddenly  becoming  very 
brisk,  and  the  ten  o'clock  gentlemen  falling  into  a  pace  of 
most  aristocratic  slowness.  The  clock  struck  ten,  and  clerks 
poured  in  faster  than  ever,  each  one  in  a  greater  perspiration 
than  his  predecessor.  The  noise  of  unlocking  and  opening 
doors  echoed  and  re-echoed  on  every  side;  heads  appeared 
as  if  by  magic  in  every  window ;  the  porters  took  up  their 
stations  for  the  day;  the  slipshod  laundresses  hurried  off; 
the  postman  ran  from  house  to  house;  and  the  whole  legal 
hive  was  in  a  bustle. 

"  You're  early,  Mr.  Pickwick,11  said  a  voice  behind  him. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Lowten,11  replied  that  gentleman,  looking  round, 
and  recognising  his  old  acquaintance. 

"Precious  warm  walking,  isn't  it?11  said  Lowten,  drawing 
a  Bramah  key  from  his  pocket,  with  a  small  plug  therein,  to 
keep  the  dust  out. 

"  You  appear  to  feel  it  so,11  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  smiling 
at  the  clerk,  who  was  literally  red  hot. 

"I've  come  along  rather,  I  can  tell  you,11  replied  Lowten. 
"It  went  the  half  hour  as  I  came  through  the  Polygon. 
Tin  here  before  him,  though,  so  I  don't  mind.11 

Comforting  himself  with  this  reflection,  Mr.  Lowten  ex- 
tracted the  plug  from  the  door-key,  and  having  opened  the 
door,  replugged  and  repocketed  his  Bramah,  and  picked  up 
the  letters  which  the  postman  had  dropped  through  the 
box.  He  then  ushered  Mr.  Pickwick  into  the  office.  Here, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  divested  himself  of  his  coat, 
put  on  a  threadbare  garment  which  he  took  out  of  a  desk, 
hung  up  his  hat,  pulled  forth  a  few  sheets  of  cartridge  and 
blotting-paper  in  alternate  layers,  and  sticking  a  pen  behind 
his  ear,  rubbed  his  hands  with  an  air  of  great  satisfaction. 

"  There  you  see,  Mr.  Pickwick,11  he  said,  "  now  Fm  complete. 
I've  got  my  office  coat  on,  and  my  pad  out,  and  let  him 
come  as  soon  as  he  likes.  You  haven^  got  a  pinch  of  snuff 
about  you,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 


MR.   JINGLE'S  BUSINESS.  407 

"Tin  sorry  for  it,""  said  Lowten.  "Never  mind.  I'll  run 
out  presently,  and  get  a  bottle  of  soda.  Don't  I  look  rather 
queer  about  the  eyes,  Mr.  Pickwick  ? " 

The  individual  appealed  to,  surveyed  Mr.  Lowten's  eyes 
from  a  distance,  and  expressed  his  opinion  that  no  unusual 
queerness  was  perceptible  in  those  features. 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  Lowten.  "  We  were  keeping  it  up 
pretty  tolerably  at  the  Stump  last  night,  and  I'm  rather  out 
of  sorts  this  morning.  Perker's  been  about  that  business  of 
yours,  by  the  bye." 

"  What  business  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Mrs.  Bardell's 
costs  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't  mean  that,"  replied  Mr.  Lowten.  "About 
getting  that  customer  that  we  paid  the  ten  shillings  in  the 
pound  to  the  bill  discounter  for,  on  your  account — to  get 
him  out  of  the  Fleet,  you  know — about  getting  him  to 
Demerara." 

"Oh?  Mr.  Jingle?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  hastily.  "Yes. 
Well?" 

"Well,  it's  all  arranged,"  said  Lowten,  mending  his  pen. 
"The  agent  at  Liverpool  said  he  had  been  obliged  to  you 
many  times  when  you  were  in  business,  and  he  would  be 
glad  to  take  him  on  your  recommendation." 

"That's  well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "I  am  delighted  to 
hear  it." 

"  But  I  say,"  resumed  Lowten,  scraping  the  back  of  the 
pen  preparatory  to  making  a  fresh  split,  "what  a  soft  chap 
that  other  is  ! " 

"Which  other?" 

"Why,  that  servant,  or  friend,  or  whatever  he  is;  yon 
know;  Trotter." 

"Ah?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a  smile.  "I  always 
thought  him  the  reverse." 

"  Well,  and  so  did  I,  from  what  little  I  saw  of  him,"  replied 
Lowten,  "it  only  shows  how  one  may  be  deceived.  What 
do  you  think  of  his  going  to  Demerara,  too  ? " 


408  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"What!  And  giving  up  what  was  offered  him  here!11 
exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Treating  Perker's  offer  of  eighteen  bob  a- week,  and  a 
rise  if  he  behaved  himself,  like  dirt,"  replied  Lowten.  "  He 
said  he  must  go  along  with  the  other  one,  and  so  they 
persuaded  Perker  to  write  again,  and  they've  got  him  some- 
thing on  the  same  estate ;  not  near  so  good,  Perker  says,  as 
a  convict  would  get  in  New  South  Wales,  if  he  appeared  at 
his  trial  in  a  new  suit  of  clothes.1" 

"Foolish  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  glistening  eyes. 
"Foolish  fellow." 

"Oh,  it's  worse  than  foolish;  it's  downright  sneaking,  you 
know,"  replied  Lowten,  nibbing  the  pen  with  a  contemptuous 
face.  "  He  says  that  he's  the  only  friend  he  ever  had,  and 
he's  attached  to  him,  and  all  that.  Friendship's  a  very  good 
thing  in  its  way :  we  are  all  very  friendly  and  comfortable 
at  the  Stump,  for  instance,  over  our  grog,  where  every  man 
pays  for  himself;  but  damn  hurting  yourself  for  anybody  else, 
you  know !  No  man  should  have  more  than  two  attachments 
— the  first,  to  number  one,  and  the  second  to  the  ladies; 
that's  what  I  say — ha !  ha ! "  Mr.  Lowten  concluded  with  a 
loud  laugh,  half  in  jocularity,  and  half  in  derision,  which  was 
prematurely  cut  short  by  the  sound  of  Perker's  footsteps  on 
the  stairs :  at  the  first  approach  of  which,  he  vaulted  on  his 
stool  with  an  agility  most  remarkable,  and  wrote  intensely. 

The  greeting  between  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his  professional 
adviser  was  warm  and  cordial ;  the  client  was  scarcely  ensconced 
in  the  attorney's  arm  chair,  however,  when  a  knock  was  heard 
at  the  door,  and  a  voice  inquired  whether  Mr.  Perker  was 
within. 

"  Hark ! "  said  Perker,  "  that's  one  of  our  vagabond  friends 
— Jingle  himself,  my  dear  sir.  Will  you  see  him  ?  ** 

"What  do  you  think?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick,  hesitating. 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  had  better.  Here,  you  sir,  what's  your 
name,  walk  in,  will  you  ? " 

In  compliance  with  this  unceremonious  invitation,  Jingle 


MR.   JINGLE   AT  MR.   PERKER'S.  409 

and  Job  walked  into  the  room,  but,  seeing  Mr.  Pickwick, 
stopped  short  in  some  confusion. 

"Well,"  said  Perker,  "don't  you  know  that  gentleman?" 

"  Good  reason  to,"  replied  Mr.  Jingle,  stepping  forward. 
"Mr.  Pickwick — deepest  obligations — life  preserver — made  a 
man  of  me — you  shall  never  repent  it,  sir." 

"I  am  happy  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  You  look  much  better." 

"Thanks  to  you,  sir — great  change — Majesty's  Fleet — 
unwholesome  place — very,"  said  Jingle,  shaking  his  head. 
He  was  decently  and  cleanly  dressed,  and  so  was  Job,  who 
stood  bolt  upright  behind  him,  staring  at  Mr.  Pickwick  with 
a  visage  of  iron. 

"  When  do  they  go  to  Liverpool  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick, 
half  aside  to  Perker. 

"This  evening,  sir,  at  seven  o'clock,"  said  Job,  taking  one 
step  forward.  "By  the  heavy  coach  from  the  city,  sir." 

"  Are  your  places  taken  ?  " 

"They  are,  sir,"  replied  Job. 

"  You  have  fully  made  up  your  mind  to  go  ? " 

"I  have,  sir,"  answered  Job. 

"With  regard  to  such  an  outfit  as  was  indispensable  for 
Jingle,"  said  Perker,  addressing  Mr.  Pickwick  aloud,  "I  have 
taken  upon  myself  to  make  an  arrangement  for  the  deduction 
of  a  small  sum  from  his  quarterly  salary,  which,  being  made 
only  for  one  year,  and  regularly  remitted,  will  provide  for 
that  expense.  I  entirely  disapprove  of  your  doing  anything 
for  him,  my  dear  sir,  which  is  not  dependent  on  his  own 
exertions  and  good  conduct.*' 

"  Certainly,"  interposed  Jingle,  with  great  firmness.  "  Clear 
head — man  of  the  world — quite  right — perfectly." 

"By  compounding  with  his  creditor,  releasing  his  clothes 
from  the  pawnbroker's,  relieving  him  in  prison,  and  paying 
for  his  passage,"  continued  Perker,  without  noticing  Jingle's 
observation,  "  you  have  already  lost  upwards  of  fifty  pounds." 

"Not   lost,"  said  Jingle,  hastily.      "Pay  it  all— stick  to 


410  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

business — cash  up — every  farthing.  Yellow  fever,  perhaps 
— can't  help  that — if  not — "  Here  Mr.  Jingle  paused,  and 
striking  the  crown  of  his  hat  with  great  violence,  passed  his 
hand  over  his  eyes,  and  sat  down. 

"  He  means  to  say,'1  said  Job,  advancing  a  few  paces,  "  that 
if  he  is  not  carried  off  by  the  fever,  he  will  pay  the  money 
back  again.  If  he  lives,  he  will,  Mr.  Pickwick.  I  will  see 
it  done.  I  know  he  will,  sir,11  said  Job,  with  energy.  "I 
could  undertake  to  swear  it.11 

"Well,  well,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  been  bestowing 
a  score  or  two  of  frowns  upon  Perker,  to  stop  his  summary 
of  benefits  conferred,  which  the  little  attorney  obstinately 
disregarded,  "you  must  be  careful  not  to  play  any  more 
desperate  cricket  matches,  Mr.  Jingle,  or  to  renew  your 
acquaintance  with  Sir  Thomas  Blazo,  and  I  have  little  doubt 
of  your  preserving  your  health.11 

Mr.  Jingle  smiled  at  this  sally,  but  looked  rather  foolish 
notwithstanding;  so,  Mr.  Pickwick  changed  the  subject  by 
saying, 

"  You  don't  happen  to  know,  do  you,  what  has  become  of 
another  friend  of  yours — a  more  humble  one,  whom  I  saw  at 
Rochester?1' 

"  Dismal  Jemmy  ?  "  inquired  Jingle. 

"  Yes.11 

Jingle  shook  his  head. 

"  Clever  rascal — queer  fellow,  hoaxing  genius — Job's  brother." 

"  Job's  brother ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Well,  now  I 
look  at  him  closely,  there  is  a  likeness." 

"  We  were  always  considered  like  each  other,  sir,"  said  Job, 
with  a  cunning  look  just  lurking  in  the  corners  of  his  eyes, 
"only  I  was  really  of  a  serious  nature,  and  he  never  was. 
He  emigrated  to  America,  sir,  in  consequence  of  being  too 
much  sought  after  here,  to  be  comfortable;  and  has  never 
been  heard  of  since." 

"  That  accounts  for  my  not  having  received  the  « page  from 
the  romance  of  real  life,1  which  he  promised  me  one  morning 


A  LAST  CHANCE.  411 

when  he  appeared  to  be  contemplating  suicide  on  Rochester 
Bridge,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  smiling.  "  I  need  not 
inquire  whether  his  dismal  behaviour  was  natural  or  assumed."" 

"  He  could  assume  anything,  sir,"  said  Job.  "  You  may 
consider  yourself  very  fortunate  in  having  escaped  him  so 
easily.  On  intimate  terms  he  would  have  been  even  a  more 
dangerous  acquaintance  than — "  Job  looked  at  Jingle, 
hesitated,  and  finally  added,  "  than — than — myself  even." 

"  A  hopeful  family  yours,  Mr.  Trotter,"  said  Perker,  sealing 
a  letter  which  he  had  just  finished  writing. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Job.     "  Very  much  so."" 

"  Well,"  said  the  little  man,  laughing ;  "  I  hope  you  are 
going  to  disgrace  it.  Deliver  this  letter  to  the  agent  when 
you  reach  Liverpool,  and  let  me  advise  you,  gentlemen,  not 
to  be  too  knowing  in  the  West  Indies.  If  you  throw  away 
this  chance,  you  will  both  richly  deserve  to  be  hanged,  as  I 
sincerely  trust  you  will  be.  And  now  you  had  better  leave 
Mr.  Pickwick  and  me  alone,  for  we  have  other  matters  to  talk 
over,  and  time  is  precious."  As  Perker  said  this,  he  looked 
towards  the  door,  with  an  evident  desire  to  render  the  leave- 
taking  as  brief  as  possible. 

It  was  brief  enough  on  Mr.  Jingle's  part.  He  thanked 
the  little  attorney  in  a  few  hurried  words  for  the  kindness 
and  promptitude  with  which  he  had  rendered  his  assistance, 
and,  turning  to  his  benefactor,  stood  for  a  few  seconds  as  if 
irresolute  what  to  say  or  how  to  act.  Job  Trotter  relieved 
his  perplexity;  for,  with  a  humble  and  a  grateful  bow  to 
Mr.  Pickwick,  he  took  his  friend  gently  by  the  arm,  and  led 
him  away. 

"  A  worthy  couple ! "  said  Perker,  as  the  door  closed  behind 
them. 

"I  hope  they  may  become  so,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  What  do  you  think  ?  Is  there  any  chance  of  their  per- 
manent reformation  ?  " 

Perker  shrugged  his  shoulders  doubtfully,  but  observing 
Mr.  Pickwick's  anxious  and  disappointed  look,  rejoined : 


412  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

"Of  course  there  is  a  chance.  I  hope  it  may  prove  a 
good  one.  They  are  unquestionably  penitent  now;  but 
then,  you  know,  they  have  the  recollection  of  very  recent 
suffering  fresh  upon  them.  What  they  may  become,  when 
that  fades  away,  is  a  problem  that  neither  you  nor  I  can  solve. 
However,  my  dear  sir,11  added  Perker,  laying  his  hand  on 
Mr.  Pickwick^  shoulder,  "your  object  is  equally  honourable, 
whatever  the  result  is.  Whether  that  species  of  benevolence 
which  is  so  very  cautious  and  long-sighted  that  it  is  seldom 
exercised  at  all,  lest  its  owner  should  be  imposed  upon,  and 
so  wounded  in  his  self-love,  be  real  charity  or  a  worldly 
counterfeit,  I  leave  to  wiser  heads  than  mine  to  determine. 
But  if  those  two  fellows  were  to  commit  a  burglary  to-morrow, 
my  opinion  of  this  action  would  be  equally  high.11 

With  these  remarks,  which  were  delivered  in  a  much  more 
animated  and  earnest  manner  than  is  usual  in  legal  gentlemen, 
Perker  drew  his  chair  to  his  desk,  and  listened  to  Mr.  Pick- 
wick^ recital  of  old  Mr.  Winkled  obstinacy. 

"Give  him  a  week,11  said  Perker,  nodding  his  head  pro- 
phetically. 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  come  round  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. 

"  I  think  he  will,11  rejoined  Perker.  "  If  not,  we  must  try 
the  young  lady^  persuasion;  and  that  is  what  anybody  but 
you,  would  have  done  at  first.11 

Mr.  Perker  was  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff  with  various  gro- 
tesque contractions  of  countenance,  eulogistic  of  the  persuasive 
powers  appertaining  unto  young  ladies,  when  the  murmur  of 
inquiry  and  answer  was  heard  in  the  outer  office,  and  Lowten 
tapped  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in  ! "  cried  the  little  man. 

The  clerk  came  in,  and  shut  the  door  after  him,  with  great 
mystery. 

"What's  the  matter?11  inquired  Perker. 

"  YouVe  wanted,  sir.11 

"Who  wants  me?" 


MESSRS.   DODSON  AND  FOGG.  413 

Lowten  looked  at  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  coughed. 

"  Who  wants  me  ?     Can't  you  speak,  Mr.  Lowten  ?  " 

"Why,  sir,"  replied  Lowten,  "it's  Dodson;  and  Fogg  is 
with  him." 

"  Bless  my  life ! "  said  the  little  man,  looking  at  his  watch, 
"I  appointed  them  to  be  here,  at  half-past  eleven,  to  settle 
that  matter  of  yours,  Pickwick.  I  gave  them  an  undertaking 
on  which  they  sent  down  your  discharge;  it's  very  awkward, 
my  dear  sir ;  what  will  you  do  ?  Would  you  like  to  step 
into  the  next  room  ?  " 

The  next  room  being  the  identical  room  in  which  Messrs. 
Dodson  and  Fogg  were,  Mr.  Pickwick  replied  that  he  would 
remain  where  he  was :  the  more  especially  as  Messrs.  Dodson 
and  Fogg  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  look  him  in  the  face, 
instead  of  his  being  ashamed  to  see  them.  Which  latter 
circumstance  he  begged  Mr.  Perker  to  note,  with  a  glowing 
countenance  and  many  marks  of  indignation. 

"  Very  well,  my  dear  sir,  very  well,"  replied  Perker,  "  I  can 
only  say  that  if  you  expect  either  Dodson  or  Fogg  to  exhibit 
any  symptom  of  shame  or  confusion  at  having  to  look  you, 
or  anybody  else,  in  the  face,  you  are  the  most  sanguine  man 
in  your  expectations  that  /  ever  met  with.  Show  them  in, 
Mr.  Lowten." 

Mr.  Lowten  disappeared  with  a  grin,  and  immediately 
returned  ushering  in  the  firm,  in  due  form  of  precedence : 
Dodson  first,  and  Fogg  afterwards. 

"  You  have  seen  Mr.  Pickwick,  I  believe  ? "  said  Perker  to 
Dodson,  inclining  his  pen  in  the  direction  where  that  gentle- 
man was  seated. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Pickwick  ? "  said  Dodson  in  a  loud 
voice. 

"  Dear  me,"  cried  Fogg,  "  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Pickwick  ? 
I  hope  you  are  well,  sir.  I  thought  I  knew  the  face,"  said 
Fogg,  drawing  up  a  chair,  and  looking  round  him  with  a 
smile. 

Mr.   Pickwick   bent  his  head  very  slightly,  in  answer  to 


414  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

these  salutations,  and,  seeing  Fogg  pull  a  bundle  of  papers 
from  his  coat-pocket,  rose  and  walked  to  the  window. 

"  There's  no  occasion  for  Mr.  Pickwick  to  move,  Mr.  Perker," 
said  Fogg,  untying  the  red  tape  which  encircled  the  little 
bundle,  and  smiling  again  more  sweetly  than  before.  "Mr. 
Pickwick  is  pretty  well  acquainted  with  these  proceedings. 
There  are  no  secrets  between  us,  I  think.  He !  he !  he ! " 

"Not  many,  I  think,"  said  Dodson.  "Ha!  ha!  ha!" 
Then  both  the  partners  laughed  together — pleasantly  and 
cheerfully,  as  men  who  are  going  to  receive  money,  often  do. 

"We  shall  make  Mr.  Pickwick  pay  for  peeping,"  said 
Fogg,  with  considerable  native  humour,  as  he  unfolded  his 
papers.  "The  amount  of  the  taxed  costs  is  one  hundred 
and  thirty  three,  six,  four,  Mr.  Perker." 

There  was  a  great  comparing  of  papers,  and  turning  over 
of  leaves,  by  Fogg  and  Perker,  after  this  statement  of  profit 
and  loss.  Meanwhile,  Dodson  said  in  an  affable  manner  to 
Mr.  Pickwick : 

"I  don't  think  you  are  looking  quite  so  stout  as  when  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  last,  Mr.  Pickwick." 

"Possibly  not,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  had  been 
flashing  forth  looks  of  fierce  indignation,  without  producing 
the  smallest  effect  on  either  of  the  sharp  practitioners ;  "I 
believe  I  am  not,  sir.  I  have  been  persecuted  and  annoyed 
by  Scoundrels  of  late,  sir." 

Perker  coughed  violently,  and  asked  Mr.  Pickwick  whether 
he  wouldn't  like  to  look  at  the  morning  paper?  To  which 
inquiry  Mr.  Pickwick  returned  a  most  decided  negative. 

"True,"  said  Dodson,  "I  dare  say  you  have  been  annoyed 
in  the  Fleet ;  there  are  some  odd  gentry  there.  Whereabouts 
were  your  apartments,  Mr.  Pickwick  ?  " 

"My  one  room,"  replied  that  much-injured  gentleman, 
"was  on  the  Coffee  Room  flight." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  said  Dodson.  "I  believe  that  is  a  very 
pleasant  part  of  the  establishment." 

"Very,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick  drily. 


MR.  DODSON  BEARS  NO   ILL-WILL.         415 

There  was  a  coolness  about  all  this,  which,  to  a  gentleman 
of  an  excitable  temperament,  had,  under  the  circumstances, 
rather  an  exasperating  tendency.  Mr.  Pickwick  restrained  his 
wrath  by  gigantic  efforts ;  but  when  Perker  wrote  a  cheque 
for  the  whole  amount,  and  Fogg  deposited  it  in  a  small 
pocket-book  with  a  triumphant  smile  playing  over  his  pimply 
features  which  communicated  itself  likewise  to  the  stern 
countenance  of  Dodson,  he  felt  the  blood  in  his  cheeks 
tingling  with  indignation. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Dodson,11  said  Fogg,  putting  up  the  pocket-book 
and  drawing  on  his  gloves,  "  I  am  at  your  service." 

"Very  good,11  said  Dodson,  rising,  "I  am  quite  ready."" 

"I  am  very  happy,11  said  Fogg,  softened  by  the  cheque, 
"  to  have  had  the  pleasure  of  making  Mr.  Pickwick's  acquaint- 
ance. I  hope  you  don^  think  quite  so  ill  of  us,  Mr.  Pickwick, 
as  when  we  first  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.11 

"I  hope  not,11  said  Dodson,  with  the  high  tone  of  calum- 
niated virtue.  "  Mr.  Pickwick  now  knows  us  better.  I  trust : 
whatever  your  opinion  of  gentlemen  of  our  profession  may  be, 
I  beg  to  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  bear  no  ill-will  or  vindictive 
feeling  towards  you  for  the  sentiments  you  thought  proper  to 
express  in  our  office  in  Freeman^  Court,  Cornhill,  on  the 
occasion  to  which  my  partner  has  referred.11 

"  Oh  no,  no  ;  nor  I,11  said  Fogg,  in  a  most  forgiving  manner. 

"Our  conduct,  sir,11  said  Dodson,  "will  speak  for  itself, 
and  justify  itself  I  hope,  upon  every  occasion.  We  have  been 
in  the  profession  some  years,  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  have  been 
honoured  with  the  confidence  of  many  excellent  clients.  I 
wish  you  good  morning,  sir.11 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Pickwick,11  said  Fogg.  So  saying,  he 
put  his  umbrella  under  his  arm,  drew  off"  his  right  glove,  and 
extended  the  hand  of  reconciliation  to  that  most  indignant 
gentleman :  who,  thereupon,  thrust  his  hands  beneath  his  coat 
tails,  and  eyed  the  attorney  with  looks  of  scornful  amazement. 

"Lowten!11  cried  Perker  at  this  moment.  "Open  the 
door.11 


416  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"Wait  one  instant,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "Perker,  I  will 
speak."" 

"My  dear  sir,  pray  let  the  matter  rest  where  it  is,1'  said 
the  little  attorney,  who  had  been  in  a  state  of  nervous 
apprehension  during  the  whole  interview ;  "  Mr.  Pickwick,  I 
beg!11 

"  I  will  not  be  put  down,  sir,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick  hastily. 
"  Mr.  Dodson,  you  have  addressed  some  remarks  to  me.11 

Dodson  turned  round,  bent  his  head  meekly,  and  smiled. 

"Some  remarks  to  me,11  repeated  Mr.  Pickwick,  almost 
breathless;  "and  your  partner  has  tendered  me  his  hand, 
and  you  have  both  assumed  a  tone  of  forgiveness  and  high- 
mindedness,  which  is  an  extent  of  impudence  that  I  was  not 
prepared  for,  even  in  you.11 

"  What,  sir  ! "  exclaimed  Dodson. 

"  What,  sir ! "  reiterated  Fogg. 

"Do  you  know  that  I  have  been  the  victim  of  your  plots 
and  conspiracies  ?  "  continued  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Do  you  know 
that  I  am  the  man  whom  you  have  been  imprisoning  and 
robbing?  Do  you  know  that  you  were  the  attorneys  for  the 
plaintiff,  in  Bardell  and  Pickwick?11 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  do  know  it,11  replied  Dodson. 

"  Of  course  we  know  it,  sir,11  rejoined  Fogg,  slapping  his 
pocket — perhaps  by  accident. 

"I  see  that  you  recollect  it  with  satisfaction,11  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  attempting  to  call  up  a  sneer  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  and  failing  most  signally  in  so  doing.  "Although  I 
have  long  been  anxious  to  tell  you,  in  plain  terms,  what  my 
opinion  of  you  is,  I  should  have  let  even  this  opportunity 
pass,  in  deference  to  my  friend  Perker^  wishes,  but  for  the 
unwarrantable  tone  you  have  assumed,  and  your  insolent 
familiarity.  I  say  insolent  familiarity,  sir,11  said  Mr.  Pickwick, 
turning  upon  Fogg  with  a  fierceness  of  gesture  which  caused 
that  person  to  retreat  towards  the  door  with  great  expedition. 

"Take  care,  sir,11  said  Dodson,  who,  though  he  was  the 
biggest  man  of  the  party,  had  prudently  intrenched  himself 


A  PIECE  OF  MR.   PICKWICK'S  MIND.       417 

behind  Fogg,  and  was  speaking  over  his  head  with  a  very 
pale  face.  "  Let  him  assault  you,  Mr.  Fogg ;  don't  return  it 
on  any  account." 

"  No,  no,  I  won't  return  it,"  said  Fogg,  falling  back  a  little 
more  as  he  spoke;  to  the  evident  relief  of  his  partner,  who 
by  these  means  was  gradually  getting  into  the  outer  office. 

"  You  are,"  continued  Mr.  Pickwick,  resuming  the  thread 
of  his  discourse,  "you  are  a  well-matched  pair  of  mean, 
rascally,  pettifogging  robbers." 

"Well,"  interposed  Perker,  "is  that  all?" 

"It  is  all  summed  up  in  that,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick; 
"  they  are  mean,  rascally,  pettifogging  robbers." 

"  There  ! "  said  Perker  in  a  most  conciliatory  tone.  "  My 
dear  sirs,  he  has  said  all  he  has  to  say.  Now  pray  go. 
Lowten,  is  that  door  open?" 

Mr.  Lowten,  with  a  distant  giggle,  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"There,  there — good  morning — good  morning — now  pray, 
my  dear  sirs, — Mr.  Lowten,  the  door ! "  cried  the  little  man, 
pushing  Dodson  and  Fogg,  nothing  loath,  out  of  the  office; 
"this  way,  my  dear  sirs, — now  pray  don't  prolong  this — dear 
me — Mr.  Lowten — the  door,  sir — why  don't  you  attend?" 

"If  there's  law  in  England,  sir,"  said  Dodson,  looking 
towards  Mr.  Pickwick,  as  he  put  on  his  hat,  "you  shall  smart 
for  this." 

"You  are  a  couple  of  mean — " 

"Remember,  sir,  you  pay  dearly  for  this,"  said  Fogg. 

" — Rascally,  pettifogging  robbers!"  continned  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, taking  not  the  least  notice  of  the  threats  that  were 
addressed  to  him. 

"  Robbers ! "  cried  Mr.  Pickwick,  running  to  the  stair-head, 
as  the  two  attorneys  descended. 

"  Robbers ! "  shouted  Mr.  Pickwick,  breaking  from  Lowten 
and  Perker,  and  thrusting  his  head  out  of  the  staircase  window. 

When  Mr.  Pickwick  drew  in  his  head  again,  his  countenance 
was  smiling  and  placid ;  and,  walking  quietly  back  into  the 
office,  he  declared  that  he  had  now  removed  a  great  weight 

VOL.   II.  2  E 


418  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

from  his  mind,  and  that  he  felt  perfectly  comfortable  and 
happy. 

Perker  said  nothing  at  all  until  he  had  emptied  his  snuff- 
box, and  sent  Lowten  out  to  fill  it,  when  he  was  seized  with 
a  fit  of  laughing,  which  lasted  five  minutes ;  at  the  expiration 
of  which  time  he  said  that  he  supposed  he  ought  to  be  very 
angry,  but  he  couldn't  think  of  the  business  seriously  yet — 
when  he  could,  he  would  be. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  let  me  have  a  settlement 
with  you." 

"Of  the  same  kind  as  the  last?"  inquired  Perker,  with 
another  laugh. 

"Not  exactly,"  rejoined  Mr.  Pickwick,  drawing  out  his 
pocket-book,  and  shaking  the  little  man  heartily  by  the  hand, 
"  I  only  mean  a  pecuniary  settlement.  You  have  done  me 
many  acts  of  kindness  that  I  can  never  repay,  and  have  no 
wish  to  repay,  for  I  prefer  continuing  the  obligation." 

With  this  preface,  the  two  friends  dived  into  some  very 
complicated  accounts  and  vouchers,  which,  having  been  duly 
displayed  and  gone  through  by  Perker,  were  at  once  discharged 
by  Mr.  Pickwick  with  many  professions  of  esteem  and  friend- 
ship. 

They  had  no  sooner  arrived  at  this  point,  than  a  most 
violent  and  startling  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door ;  it  was 
not  an  ordinary  double  knock,  but  a  constant  and  uninterrupted 
succession  of  the  loudest  single  raps,  as  if  the  knocker  were 
endowed  with  the  perpetual  motion,  or  the  person  outside 
had  forgotten  to  leave  off. 

"  Dear  me,  what's  that ! "  exclaimed  Perker,  starting. 

"I  think  it  is  a  knock  at  the  door,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  as 
if  there  could  be  the  smallest  doubt  of  the  fact ! 

The  knocker  made  a  more  energetic  reply  than  words 
could  have  yielded,  for  it  continued  to  hammer  with  surprising 
force  and  noise,  without  a  moment's  cessation. 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Perker,  ringing  his  bell,  "  we  shall  alarm 
the  Inn.  Mr.  Lowten,  don't  you  hear  a  knock  ?  " 


REPEATED  KNOCKING.  419 

"  Til  answer  the  door  in  one  moment,  sir,"  replied  the  clerk. 

The  knocker  appeared  to  hear  the  response,  and  to  assert 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  he  could  wait  so  long.  It  made 
a  stupendous  uproar. 

«'  It's  quite  dreadful,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  stopping  his  ears. 

"Make  haste,  Mr.  Lowten,"  Perker  called  out,  "we  shall 
have  the  panels  beaten  in." 

Mr.  Lowten,  who  was  washing  his  hands  in  a  dark  closet, 
hurried  to  the  door,  and  turning  the  handle,  beheld  the 
appearance  which  is  described  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAFFER  LIV. 

CONTAINING  SOME  PARTICULARS  RELATIVE  TO  THE  DOUBLE  KNOCK, 
AND  OTHER  MATTERS:  AMONG  WHICH  CERTAIN  INTERESTING 
DISCLOSURES  RELATIVE  TO  MR.  SNODGRASS  AND  A  YOUNG 
LADY  ARE  BY  NO  MEANS  IRRELEVANT  TO  THIS  HISTORY. 

THE  object  that  presented  itself  to  the  eyes  of  the  astonished 
clerk,  was  a  boy — a  wonderfully  fat  boy — habited  as  a  serving 
lad,  standing  upright  on  the  mat,  with  his  eyes  closed  as  if 
in  sleep.  He  had  never  seen  such  a  fat  boy,  in  or  out  of  a 
travelling  caravan;  and  this,  coupled  with  the  calmness  and 
repose  of  his  appearance,  so  very  different  from  what  was 
reasonably  to  have  been  expected  of  the  inflicter  of  such 
knocks,  smote  him  with  wonder. 

"What's  the  matter?"  inquired  the  clerk. 

The  extraordinary  boy  replied  not  a  word ;  but  he  nodded 
once,  and  seemed,  to  the  clerk^s  imagination,  to  snore  feebly. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ? "  inquired  the  clerk. 

The  boy  made  no  sign.  He  breathed  heavily,  but  in  all 
other  respects  was  motionless. 

The  clerk  repeated  the  question  thrice,  and  receiving  no 
answer,  prepared  to  shut  the  door,  when  the  boy  suddenly 
opened  his  eyes,  winked  several  times,  sneezed  once,  and  raised 
his  hand  as  if  to  repeat  the  knocking.  Finding  the  door 
open,  he  stared  about  him  with  astonishment,  and  at  length 
fixed  his  eyes  on  Mr.  Lowten's  face. 


MR.  WARDLE   AT  GRAY'S  INN.  421 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  knock  in  that  way  for  ? "  inquired 
the  clerk,  angrily. 

"Which  way?"  said  the  boy,  in  a  slow  and  sleepy  voice. 

"  Why,  like  forty  hackney-coachmen,""  replied  the  clerk. 

"  Because  master  said,  I  wasn't  to  leave  off  knocking  till 
they  opened  the  door,  for  fear  I  should  go  to  sleep,""  said 
the'  boy. 

"  Well,"  said  the  clerk,  "  what  message  have  you  brought  ?  " 

"  He's  down  stairs,11  rejoined  the  boy. 

"Who?" 

"  Master.     He  wants  to  know  whether  you're  at  home." 

Mr.  Lowten  bethought  himself,  at  this  juncture,  of  looking 
out  of  the  window.  Seeing  an  open  carriage  with  a  hearty 
old  gentleman  in  it,  looking  up  very  anxiously,  he  ventured 
to  beckon  him ;  on  which,  the  old  gentleman  jumped  out 
directly. 

"That's  your  master  in  the  carriage,  I  suppose?1'  said 
Lowten. 

The  boy  nodded. 

All  further  inquiries  were  superseded  by  the  appearance 
of  old  Wardle,  who,  running  up  stairs,  and  just  recognising 
Lowten,  passed  at  once  into  Mr.  Perker's  room. 

"  Pickwick  ! "  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  Your  hand,  my 
boy  !  Why  have  I  never  heard  until  the  day  before  yesterday 
of  your  suffering  yourself  to  be  cooped  up  in  jail  ?  And  why 
did  you  let  him  do  it,  Perker  ? " 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,  my  dear  sir,11  replied  Perker,  with  a 

smile  and  a  pinch  of  snuff:  "you  know  how  obstinate  he  is.11 

"  Of  course  I  do,  of  course  I  do,"  replied  the  old  gentleman. 

"I   am   heartily  glad  to   see  him,    notwithstanding.     I  will 

not  lose  sight  of  him  again,  in  a  hurry." 

With  these  words,  Wardle  shook  Mr.  Pickwick's  hand  once 
more,  and,  having  done  the  same  by  Perker,  threw  himself 
into  an  arm-chair ;  his  jolly  red  face  shining  again  with  smiles 
and  health. 

"  Well ! "   said  Wardle.     "  Here  are   pretty  goings    on — a 


422  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

pinch    of    your    snuff,    Perker,    my    boy — never    were    such 
times,  eh  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Mean  ! "  replied  Wardle.  "  Why,  I  think  the  girls  are  all 
running  mad ;  that's  no  news,  you'll  say  ?  Perhaps  it's  not ; 
but  if  s  true,  for  all  that." 

"You  have  not  come  up  to  London,  of  all  places  in  the 
world,  to  tell  us  that,  my  dear  sir,  have  you  ? "  inquired 
Perker. 

"  No,  not  altogether,11  replied  Wardle ;  "  though  it  was  the 
main  cause  of  my  coming.  How's  Arabella  ?  " 

"Very  well,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  "and  will  be  delighted 
to  see  you,  I  am  sure."" 

"Black-eyed  little  jilt!"  replied  Wardle,  "I  had  a  great 
idea  of  marrying  her  myself,  one  of  these  odd  days.  But  I 
am  glad  of  it  too,  very  glad." 

"  How  did  the  intelligence  reach  you  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Oh,  it  came  to  my  girls,  of  course,"  replied  Wardle. 
"  Arabella  wrote,  the  day  before  yesterday,  to  say  she  had 
made  a  stolen  match  without  her  husband's  father's  consent, 
and  so  you  had  gone  down  to  get  it  when  his  refusing  it 
couldn't  prevent  the  match,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  I  thought 
it  a  very  good  time  to  say  something  serious  to  my  girls ;  so 
I  said  what  a  dreadful  thing  it  was  that  children  should 
marry  without  their  parents'  consent,  and  so  forth ;  but,  bless 
your  hearts,  I  couldn't  make  the  least  impression  upon  them. 
They  thought  it  such  a  much  more  dreadful  thing  that  there 
should  have  been  a  wedding  without  bridesmaids,  that  I 
might  as  well  have  preached  to  Joe  himself." 

Here  the  old  gentleman  stopped  to  laugh  ;  and  having  done 
so  to  his  heart's  content,  presently  resumed. 

"But  this  is  not  the  best  of  it,  it  seems.  This  is  only 
half  the  love-making  and  plotting  that  have  been  going 
forward.  We  have  been  walking  on  mines  for  the  last  six 
months,  and  they're  sprung  at  last." 


MORE  MARRYING.  423 

"What  do  you  mean!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  turning 
pale;  "no  other  secret  marriage,  I  hope?" 

"  No,  no,"  replied  old  Wardle ;  "  not  so  bad  as  that ;  no." 

"What  then?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick;  «am  I  interested 
in  it  ?  " 

"Shall  I  answer  that  question,  Perker?"  said  Wardle. 

"  If  you  don't  commit  yourself  by  doing  so,  my  dear  sir." 

"Well  then,  you  are,"  said  Wardle. 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Pickwick  anxiously.     "  In  what  way  ?  " 

"Really,"  replied  Wardle,  "you're  such  a  fiery  sort  of 
young  fellow  that  I  am  almost  afraid  to  tell  you ;  but,  how- 
ever, if  Perker  will  sit  between  us  to  prevent  mischief,  I'll 
venture." 

Having  closed  the  room-door,  and  fortified  himself  with 
another  application  to  Perker's  snuff-box,  the  old  gentleman 
proceeded  with  his  great  disclosure  in  these  words. 

"  The  fact  is,  that  my  daughter  Bella — Bella,  who  married 
young  Trundle,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  know,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  impatiently. 

"Don't  alarm  me  at  the  very  beginning.  My  daughter 
Bella,  Emily  having  gone  to  bed  with  a  headache  after  she 
had  read  Arabella's  letter  to  me,  sat  herself  down  by  my 
side  the  other  evening,  and  began  to  talk  over  this  marriage 
affair.  'Well,  pa,1  she  says,  'what  do  you  think  of  it?' 
'  Why,  my  dear,'  I  said,  *  I  suppose  it's  all  very  well ;  I  hope 
it's  for  the  best.'  I  answered  in  this  way  because  I  was 
sitting  before  the  fire  at  the  time,  drinking  my  grog  rather 
thoughtfully,  and  I  knew  my  throwing  in  an  undecided  word 
now  and  then,  would  induce  her  to  continue  talking.  Both 
my  girls  are  pictures  of  their  dear  mother,  and  as  I  grow  old 
I  like  to  sit  with  only  them  by  me ;  for  their  voices  and  looks 
carry  me  back  to  the  happiest  period  of  my  life,  and  make 
me,  for  the  moment,  as  young  as  I  used  to  be  then,  though 
not  quite  so  light-hearted.  '  It's  quite  a  marriage  of  affection, 
pa,'  said  Bella,  after  a  short  silence.  'Yes,  my  dear,'  said 
I,  '  but  such  marriages  do  not  always  turn  out  the  happiest.' " 


424  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  I  question  that,  mind  ! "  interposed  Mr.  Pickwick,  warmly. 

"Very  good,"  responded  Wardle,  "question  anything  you 
like  when  it's  your  turn  to  speak,  but  don't  interrupt  me." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Granted,"  replied  Wardle.  "'I  am  sorry  to  hear  you 
express  your  opinion  against  marriages  of  affection,  pa,1  said 
Bella,  colouring  a  little.  '  I  was  wrong ;  I  ought  not  to  have 
said  so,  my  dear,  either,'  said  I,  patting  her  cheek  as  kindly 
as  a  rough  old  fellow  like  me  could  pat  it,  *  for  your  mother's 
was  one,  and  so  was  yours.'  *  It's  not  that,  I  meant,  pa,' 
said  Bella.  'The  fact  is,  pa,  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you 
about  Emily.' " 

Mr.  Pickwick  started. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  inquired  Wardle,  stopping  in 
his  narrative. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.     "  Pray  go  on." 

"I  never  could  spin  out  a  story,"  said  Wardle  abruptly. 
"It  must  come  out,  sooner  or  later,  and  it'll  save  us  all  a 
great  deal  of  time  if  it  comes  at  once.  The  long  and  the 
short  of  it  is,  then,  that  Bella  at  last  mustered  up  courage 
to  tell  me  that  Emily  was  very  unhappy ;  that  she  and  your 
young  friend  Snodgrass  had  been  in  constant  correspondence 
and  communication  ever  since  last  Christmas ;  that  she  had 
very  dutifully  made  up  her  mind  to  run  away  with  him,  in 
laudable  imitation  of  her  old  friend  and  schoolfellow ;  but 
that  having  some  compunctions  of  conscience  on  the  subject, 
inasmuch  as  I  had  always  been  rather  kindly  disposed  to 
both  of  them,  they  had  thought  it  better  in  the  first  instance 
to  pay  me  the  compliment  of  asking  whether  I  would  have 
any  objection  to  their  being  married  in  the  usual  matter-of- 
fact  manner.  There  now,  Mr.  Pickwick,  if  you  can  make 
it  convenient  to  reduce  your  eyes  to  their  usual  size  again, 
and  to  let  me  hear  what  you  think  we  ought  to  do,  I  shall 
feel  rather  obliged  to  you  ! " 

The  testy  manner  in  which  the  hearty  old  gentleman 
uttered  this  last  sentence  was  not  wholly  unwarranted;  for 


MR.    PICKWICK  IS  CONFOUNDED.  425 

Mr.  Pickwick's  face  had  settled  down  into  an  expression  of 
blank  amazement  and  perplexity,  quite  curious  to  behold. 

"  Snodgrass  !  Since  last  Christmas ! "  were  the  first  broken 
words  that  issued  from  the  lips  of  the  confounded  gentleman. 

"Since  last  Christmas,"  replied  Wardle;  "that's  plain 
enough,  and  very  bad  spectacles  we  must  have  worn,  not  to 
have  discovered  it  before." 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  ruminating ;  "  I 
really  cannot  understand  it." 

"It's  easy  enough  to  understand,"  replied  the  choleric  old 
gentleman.  "  If  you  had  been  a  younger  man,  you  would 
have  been  in  the  secret  long  ago ;  and  besides,"  added  Wardle 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "the  truth  is,  that,  knowing 
nothing  of  this  matter,  I  have  rather  pressed  Emily  for  four 
or  five  months  past,  to  receive  favourably  (if  she  could ;  I  would 
never  attempt  to  force  a  girl's  inclinations)  the  addresses  of  a 
young  gentleman  down  in  our  neighbourhood.  I  have  no 
doubt  that,  girl-like,  to  enhance  her  own  value  and  increase 
the  ardour  of  Mr.  Snodgrass,  she  has  represented  this  matter 
in  very  glowing  colours,  and  that  they  have  both  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  they  are  a  terribly  persecuted  pair  of 
unfortunates,  and  have  no  resource  but  clandestine  matrimony 
or  charcoal.  Now  the  question  is,  what's  to  be  done?" 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"I!" 

*'I  mean  what  did  you  do  when  your  married  daughter 
told  you  this?" 

"  Oh,  I  made  a  fool  of  myself,  of  course,"  rejoined  Wardle. 

"Just  so,"  interposed  Perker,  who  had  accompanied  this 
dialogue  with  sundry  twitchings  of  his  watch-chain,  vindictive 
rubbings  of  his  nose,  and  other  symptoms  of  impatience. 
"  That's  very  natural ;  but  how  ?  " 

"I  went  into  a  great  passion  and  frightened  my  mother 
into  a  fit,"  said  Wardle. 

"  That  was  judicious,"  remarked  Perker ;  "  and  what  else  ?  " 

"  I  fretted  and  fumed   all   next  day,  and   raised  a  great 


426  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

disturbance,"  rejoined  the  old  gentleman.  "At  last  I  got 
tired  of  rendering  myself  unpleasant  and  making  everybody 
miserable;  so  I  hired  a  carriage  at  Muggleton,  and,  putting 
my  own  horses  in  it,  came  up  to  town,  under  pretence  of 
bringing  Emily  to  see  Arabella." 

"Miss  Wardle  is  with  you,  then?11  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  To  be  sure  she  is,11  replied  Wardle.     "  She  is  at  Osborne's 
hotel    in   the   Adelphi    at    this   moment,  unless  your  enter- 
prising friend  has  run  away  with  her  since  I  came  out  this 
morning.11 

"  You  are  reconciled,  then  ?  "  said  Perker. 
"  Not  a  bit  of  it,11  answered  Wardle ;  "  she  has  been  crying 
and   moping  ever  since,  except  last  night,  between  tea  and 
supper,  when  she  made  a  great  parade  of  writing  a  letter 
that  I  pretended  to  take  no  notice  of.11 

"You  want  my  advice  in  this  matter,  I  suppose?11  said 
Perker,  looking  from  the  musing  face  of  Mr.  Pickwick  to  the 
eager  countenance  of  Wardle,  and  taking  several  consecutive 
pinches  of  his  favourite  stimulant. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Wardle,  looking  at  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  Certainly,"  replied  that  gentleman. 

"Well  then,"  said  Perker,  rising  and  pushing  his  chair 
back,  "my  advice  is  that  you  both  walk  away  together,  or 
ride  away,  or  get  away  by  some  means  or  other,  for  I'm  tired 
of  you,  and  just  talk  this  matter  over  between  you.  If  you 
have  not  settled  it  by  the  next  time  I  see  you,  Til  tell  you 
what  to  do.11 

"  This  is  satisfactory,"  said  Wardle,  hardly  knowing  whether 
to  smile  or  be  offended. 

"Pooh,  pooh,  my  dear  sir,"  returned  Perker.  "I  know 
you  both  a  great  deal  better  than  you  know  yourselves.  You 
have  settled  it  already,  to  all  intents  and  purposes." 

Thus  expressing  himself,  the  little  gentleman  poked  his 
snuff-box,  first  into  the  chest  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  then  into 
the  waistcoat  of  Mr.  Wardle,  upon  which  they  all  three 
laughed,  but  especially  the  two  last-named  gentlemen,  who  at 


THE  FAT  BOY   SEES  A  SIGHT.  427 

once  shook  hands  again,  without  any  obvious  or  particular 
reason. 

"  You  dine  with  me  to-day,"  said  Wardle  to  Perker,  as  he 
showed  them  out. 

"  Can't  promise,  my  dear  sir,  can't  promise,""  replied  Perker. 
"Til  look  in,  in  the  evening,  at  all  events."" 

"I  shall  expect  you  at  five,"  said  Wardle.  "Now,  Joe!" 
And  Joe  having  been  at  length  awakened,  the  two  friends 
departed  in  Mr.  Wardle's  carriage,  which  in  common  humanity 
had  a  dickey  behind  for  the  fat  boy,  who.  if  there  had  been 
a  foot-board  instead,  would  have  rolled  off  and  killed  himself 
in  his  very  first  nap. 

Driving  to  the  George  and  Vulture,  they  found  that  Arabella 
and  her  maid  had  sent  for  a  hackney-coach  immediately  on  the 
receipt  of  a  short  note  from  Emily  announcing  her  arrival  in 
town,  and  had  proceeded  straight  to  the  Adelphi.  As  Wardle 
had  business  to  transact  in  the  city,  they  sent  the  carriage 
and  the  fat  boy  to  his  hotel,  with  the  information  that  he  and 
Mr.  Pickwick  would  return  together  to  dinner  at  five  o'clock. 

Charged  with  this  message,  the  fat  boy  returned,  slumbering 
as  peaceably  in  his  dickey,  over  the  stones,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  down  bed  on  watch-springs.  By  some  extraordinary  miracle 
he  awoke  of  his  own  accord,  when  the  coach  stopped,  and 
giving  himself  a  good  shake  to  stir  up  his  faculties,  went  up 
stairs  to  execute  his  commission. 

Now,  whether  the  shake  had  jumbled  the  fat  boy's  faculties 
together,  instead  of  arranging  them  in  proper  order,  or  had 
roused  such  a  quantity  of  new  ideas  within  him  as  to  render 
him  oblivious  of  ordinary  forms  and  ceremonies,  or  (which  is 
also  possible)  had  proved  unsuccessful  in  preventing  his  falling 
asleep  as  he  ascended  the  stairs,  it  is  an  undoubted  fact  that 
he  walked  into  the  sitting-room  without  previously  knocking 
at  the  door ;  and  so  beheld  a  gentleman  with  his  arms  clasping 
his  young  mistress's  waist,  sitting  very  lovingly  by  her  side 
on  a  sofa,  while  Arabella  and  her  pretty  handmaid  feigned  to 
be  absorbed  in  looking  out  of  a  window  at  the  other  end  of 


428  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  room.  At  sight  of  this  phenomenon,  the  fat  boy  uttered 
an  interjection,  the  ladies  a  scream,  and  the  gentleman  an 
oath,  almost  simultaneously. 

"Wretched  creature,  what  do  you  want  here?"  said  the 
gentleman,  who  it  is  needless  to  say  was  Mr.  Snodgrass. 

To  this  the  fat  boy,  considerably  terrified,  briefly  responded, 
"  Missis." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  for  ? "  inquired  Emily,  turning 
her  head  aside,  "  you  stupid  creature ! " 

"  Master  and  Mr.  Pickwick  is  a  going  to  dine  here  at  five,"" 
replied  the  fat  boy. 

"  Leave  the  room ! "  said  Mr.  Snodgrass,  glaring  upon  the 
bewildered  youth. 

"  No,  no,  no,"  added  Emily  hastily.    "  Bella,  dear,  advise  me." 

Upon  this,  Emily  and  Mr.  Snodgrass,  and  Arabella  and 
Mary,  crowded  into  a  corner,  and  conversed  earnestly  in 
whispers  for  some  minutes,  during  which  the  fat  boy  dozed. 

"Joe,"  said  Arabella,  at  length,  looking  round  with  a  most 
bewitching  smile,  "  how  do  you  do,  Joe  ?  " 

"Joe,"  said  Emily,  "you're  a  very  good  boy;  I  won't 
forget  you,  Joe." 

"Joe,"  said  Mr.  Snodgrass,  advancing  to  the  astonished 
youth,  and  seizing  his  hand,  "I  didn't  know  you  before. 
There's  five  shillings  for  you,  Joe ! " 

"Til  owe  you  five,  Joe,"  said  Arabella,  "for  old  acquaint- 
ance sake,  you  know ; "  and  another  most  captivating  smile  was 
bestowed  upon  the  corpulent  intruder. 

The  fat  boy's  perception  being  slow,  he  looked  rather 
puzzled  at  first  to  account  for  this  sudden  prepossession  in 
his  favour,  and  stared  about  him  in  a  very  alarming  manner. 
At  length  his  broad  face  began  to  show  symptoms  of  a  grin 
of  proportionately  broad  dimensions ;  and  then,  thrusting  half- 
a-crown  into  each  of  his  pockets,  and  a  hand  and  wrist  after 
it,  he  burst  into  a  hoarse  laugh :  being  for  the  first  and  only 
time  in  his  existence. 

"  He  understands  us,  I  see,"  said  Arabella. 


MARY  DINES  WITH  THE  FAT  BOY.     429 

"He  had  better  have  something  to  eat,  immediately,'"' 
remarked  Emily. 

The  fat  boy  almost  laughed  again  when  he  heard  this 
suggestion.  Mary,  after  a  little  more  whispering,  tripped 
forth  from  the  group,  and  said : 

"  I  am  going  to  dine  with  you  to-day,  sir,  if  you  have  na 
objection."" 

"This  way,"  said  the  fat  boy,  eagerly.  "There  is  such  a 
jolly  meat  pie !" 

With  these  words,  the  fat  boy  led  the  way  down  stairs ; 
his  pretty  companion  captivating  all  the  waiters  and  angering 
all  the  chambermaids  as  she  followed  him  to  the  eating-room. 

There  was  the  meat-pie  of  which  the  youth  had  spoken  so 
feelingly,  and  there  were,  moreover,  a  steak,  and  a  dish  of 
potatoes,  and  a  pot  of  porter. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  fat  boy.  "  Oh,  my  eye,  how  prime  ! 
I  am  so  hungry." 

Having  apostrophised  his  eye,  in  a  species  of  rapture,  five 
or  six  times,  the  youth  took  the  head  of  the  little  table,  and 
Mary  seated  herself  at  the  bottom. 

"  Will  you  have  some  of  this  ? "  said  the  fat  boy,  plunging 
into  the  pie  up  to  the  very  ferules  of  the  knife  and  fork. 

"  A  little,  if  you  please,"  replied  Mary. 

The  fat  boy  assisted  Mary  to  a  little,  and  himself  to  a  great 
deal,  and  was  just  going  to  begin  eating  when  he  suddenly 
laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  leant  forward  in  his  chair,  and 
letting  his  hands,  with  the  knife  and  fork  in  them,  fall  on 
his  knees,  said,  very  slowly  : 

"  I  say !     How  nice  you  look  ! " 

This  was  said  in  an  admiring  manner,  and  was,  so  far, 
gratifying ;  but  still  there  was  enough  of  the  cannibal  in  the 
young  gentleman's  eyes  to  render  the  compliment  a  double 
one. 

"Dear  me,  Joseph,"  said  Mary,  affecting  to  blush,  "what 
do  you  mean  ? "" 

The    fat    boy    gradually    recovering   his    former    position, 


430  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

replied  with  a  heavy  sigh,  and  remaining  thoughtful  for  a 
few  moments,  drank  a  long  draught  of  the  porter.  Having 
achieved  this  feat  he  sighed  again,  and  applied  himself  assidu- 
ously to  the  pie. 

"What  a  nice  young  lady  Miss  Emily  is!"  said  Mary, 
after  a  long  silence. 

The  fat  boy  had  by  this  time  finished  the  pie.  He  fixed 
his  eyes  on  Mary,  and  replied : 

"  I  knows  a  nicerer." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Mary. 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  replied  the  fat  boy,  with  unwonted  vivacity. 

"What's  her  name?"  inquired  Mary. 

"What's  yours?" 

"Mary." 

"So's  hers,"  said  the  fat  boy.  "You're  her."  The  boy 
grinned  to  add  point  to  the  compliment,  and  put  his  eyes 
into  something  between  a  squint  and  a  cast,  which  there  is 
reason  to  believe  he  intended  for  an  ogle. 

"  You  mustn't  talk  to  me  in  that  way,"  said  Mary ;  "  you 
don't  mean  it." 

" Don't  I,  though ? "  replied  the  fat  boy ;  "I  say ! " 

"Well." 

"Are  you  going  to  come  here  regular?" 

"  No,"  rejoined  Mary,  shaking  her  head,  "  I'm  going  away 
again  to-night.  Why  ?  " 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  fat  boy  in  a  tone  of  strong  feeling ;  "  how 
we  should  have  enjoyed  ourselves  at  meals,  if  you  had  been ! " 

"I  might  come  here  sometimes,  perhaps,  to  see  you,"  said 
Mary,  plaiting  the  table-cloth  in  assumed  coyness,  "  if  you 
would  do  me  a  favour." 

The  fat  boy  looked  from  the  pie-dish  to  the  steak,  as  if 
he  thought  a  favour  must  be  in  a  manner  connected  with 
something  to  eat ;  and  then  took  out  one  of  the  half-crowns 
and  glanced  at  it  nervously. 

"Don't  you  understand  me?"  said  Mary,  looking  slyly  in 
his  fat  face. 


TENDER  AS  WELL  AS  FAT.  431 

Again  he  looked  at  the  half-crown,  and  said  faintly,  "  No." 

"  The  ladies  want  you  not  to  say  anything  to  the  old  gentle- 
man about  the  young  gentleman  having  been  up  stairs;  and 
I  want  you  too." 

"Is  that  all?"  said  the  fat  boy,  evidently  very  much 
relieved  as  he  pocketed  the  half-crown  again.  "  Of  course  I 
ain't  a  going  to."" 

"  You  see,"  said  Mary,  "  Mr.  Snodgrass  is  very  fond  of  Miss 
Emily,  and  Miss  Emily's  very  fond  of  him,  and  if  you  were 
to  tell  about  it,  the  old  gentleman  would  carry  you  all  away 
miles  into  the  country,  where  you'd  see  nobody." 

"  No,  no,  I  won't  tell,"  said  the  fat  boy,  stoutly. 

"  That's  a  dear,"  said  Mary.  "  Now  it's  time  I  went  up 
stairs,  and  got  my  lady  ready  for  dinner." 

"Don't  go  yet,"  urged  the  fat  boy. 

"  I  must,"  replied  Mary.     "  Good  bye,  for  the  present." 

The  fat  boy,  with  elephantine  playfulness,  stretched  out 
his  arms  to  ravish  a  kiss ;  but  as  it  required  no  great  agility 
to  elude  him,  his  fair  enslaver  had  vanished  before  he  closed 
them  again;  upon  which  the  apathetic  youth  ate  a  pound 
or  so  of  steak  with  a  sentimental  countenance,  and  fell  fast 
asleep. 

There  was  so  much  to  say  up  stairs,  and  there  were  so 
many  plans  to  concert  for  elopement  and  matrimony  in  the 
event  of  old  Wardle  continuing  to  be  cruel,  that  it  wanted 
only  half  an  hour  of  dinner  when  Mr.  Snodgrass  took  his 
final  adieu.  The  ladies  ran  to  Emily's  bedroom  to  dress,  and 
the  lover  taking  up  his  hat,  walked  out  of  the  room.  He 
had  scarcely  got  outside  the  door,  when  he  heard  Wardle's 
voice  talking  loudly,  and  looking  over  the  banisters,  beheld 
him,  followed  by  some  other  gentlemen,  coming  straight  up 
stairs.  Knowing  nothing  of  the  house,  Mr.  Snodgrass  in  his 
confusion  stepped  hastily  back  into  the  room  he  had  just 
quitted,  and  passing  from  thence  into  an  inner  apartment 
(Mr.  Wardle's  bed-chamber),  closed  the  door  softly,  just  as  the 
persons  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of,  entered  the  sitting-room. 


432  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

These  were  Mr.  Wardle,  Mr.  Pickwick,  Mr.  Nathaniel  Winkle, 
and  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  whom  he  had  no  difficulty  in  recog- 
nising by  their  voices. 

"Very  lucky  I  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  avoid  them,'1 
thought  Mr.  Snodgrass  with  a  smile,  and  walking  on  tiptoe 
to  another  door  near  the  bedside ;  "  this  opens  into  the  same 
passage,  and  I  can  walk,  quietly  and  comfortably,  away."" 

There  was  only  one  obstacle  to  his  walking  quietly  and 
comforcably  away,  which  was  that  the  door  was  locked  and 
the  key  gone. 

"  Let  us  have  some  of  your  best  wine  to-day,  waiter,"  said 
old  Wardle,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"You  shall  have  some  of  the  very  best,  sir,"  replied  the 
waiter. 

"Let  the  ladies  know  we  have  come  in." 

"Yes,  sir." 

Devoutly  and  ardently  did  Mr.  Snodgrass  wish  that  the 
ladies  could  know  he  had  come  in.  He  ventured  once  to 
whisper  "Waiter!"  through  the  keyhole,  but  as  the  probability 
of  the  wrong  waiter  coming  to  his  relief,  flashed  upon  his 
mind,  together  with  a  sense  of  the  strong  resemblance  between 
his  own  situation  and  that  in  which  another  gentleman  had 
been  recently  found  in  a  neighbouring  hotel  (an  account  of 
whose  misfortunes  had  appeared  under  the  head  of  "  Police " 
in  that  morning's  paper),  he  sat  himself  on  a  portmanteau, 
and  trembled  violently. 

"  We  won't  wait  a  minute  for  Perker,"  said  Wardle,  looking 
at  his  watch ;  "  he  is  always  exact.  He  will  be  here,  in  time, 
if  he  means  to  come ;  and  if  he  does  not,  it's  of  no  use  waiting. 
Ha!  Arabella!" 

"My  sister!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  folding  her 
in  a  most  romantic  embrace. 

"  Oh,  Ben,  dear,  how  you  do  smell  of  tobacco,"  said  Arabella, 
rather  overcome  by  this  mark  of  affection. 

"Do  I?"  said  Mr.  Benjamin  Allen,  "Do  I,  Bella?  Well, 
perhaps  I  do." 


MR.  BEN  ALLEN  MEETS  HIS  SISTER.      433 

Perhaps  he  did;  having  just  left  a  pleasant  little  smoking 
party  of  twelve  medical  students,  in  a  small  back  parlour 
with  a  large  fire. 

"But  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,"  said  Mr,  Ben  Allen. 
"  Bless  you,  Bella ! " 

"  There,"  said  Arabella,  bending  forward  to  kiss  her  brother  ; 
"  don't  take  hold  of  me  again,  Ben  dear,  because  you  tumble 
me  so." 

At  this  point  of  the  reconciliation,  Mr.  Ben  Allen  allowed 
his  feelings  and  the  cigars  and  porter  to  overcome  him,  and 
looked  round  upon  the  beholders  with  damp  spectacles. 

"Is  nothing  to  be  said  to  me?"  cried  Wardle  with  open 
arms. 

"A  great  deal,"  whispered  Arabella,  as  she  received  the 
old  gentleman's  hearty  caress  and  congratulation.  "You  are 
a  hard-hearted,  unfeeling,  cruel,  monster ! " 

"  You  are  a  little  rebel,"  replied  Wardle,  in  the  same  tone, 
"  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  obliged  to  forbid  you  the  house. 
People  like  you,  who  get  married  in  spite  of  everybody,  ought 
not  to  be  let  loose  on  society.  But  come ! "  added  the  old 
gentleman  aloud,  "  Here's  the  dinner ;  you  shall  sit  by  me. 
Joe ;  why,  damn  the  boy,  he's  awake ! " 

To  the  great  distress  of  his  master,  the  fat  boy  was  indeed 
in  a  state  of  remarkable  vigilance ;  his  eyes  being  wide  open, 
and  looking  as  if  they  intended  to  remain  so.  There  was  an 
alacrity  in  his  manner,  too,  which  was  equally  unaccountable ; 
every  time  his  eyes  met  those  of  Emily  or  Arabella,  he  smirked 
and  grinned ;  once,  Wardle  could  have  sworn  he  saw  him  wink. 

This  alteration  in  the  fat  boy's  demeanour,  originated  in 
his  increased  sense  of  his  own  importance,  and  the  dignity  he 
acquired  from  having  been  taken  into  the  confidence  of  the 
young  ladies;  and  the  smirks,  and  grins,  and  winks,  were  so 
many  condescending  assurances  that  they  might  depend  upon 
his  fidelity.  As  these  tokens  were  rather  calculated  to  awaken 
suspicion  than  allay  it,  and  were  somewhat  embarrassing 
besides,  they  were  occasionally  answered  by  a  frown  or  shake 


434  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

of  the  head  from  Arabella,  which  the  fat  boy  considering  as 
hints  to  be  on  his  guard,  expressed  his  perfect  understand- 
ing of,  by  smirking,  grinning,  and  winking,  with  redoubled 
assiduity. 

"  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Wardle,  after  an  unsuccessful  search  in  all 
his  pockets,  "  is  my  snuff-box  on  the  sofa  ? " 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  fat  boy. 

"Oh,  I  recollect;  I  left  it  on  my  dressing-table  this 
morning,"  said  Wardle.  "Run  into  the  next  room  and 
fetch  it." 

The  fat  boy  went  into  the  next  room ;  and  having  been 
absent  about  a  minute,  returned  with  the  snuff-box,  and 
the  palest  face  that  ever  a  fat  boy  wore. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  boy ! "  exclaimed  Wardle. 

"  Nothen's  the  matter  with  me,"  replied  Joe,  nervously. 

"Have  you  been  seeing  any  spirits?"  inquired  the  old 
gentleman. 

"Or  taking  any?"  added  Ben  Allen. 

"  I  think  you're  right,"  whispered  Wardle  across  the  table. 
"  He  is  intoxicated,  I'm  sure." 

Ben  Allen  replied  that  he  thought  he  was;  and  as  that 
gentleman  had  seen  a  vast  deal  of  the  disease  in  question, 
Wardle  was  confirmed  in  an  impression  which  had  been 
hovering  about  his  mind  for  half  an  hour,  and  at  once  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  the  fat  boy  was  drunk. 

"  Just  keep  your  eye  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes,"  murmured 
Wardle.  "We  shall  soon  find  out  whether  he  is  or  not." 

The  unfortunate  youth  had  only  interchanged  a  dozen 
words  with  Mr.  Snodgrass :  that  gentleman  having  implored 
him  to  make  a  private  appeal  to  some  friend  to  release  him, 
and  then  pushed  him  out  with  the  snuff-box,  lest  his  prolonged 
absence  should  lead  to  a  discovery.  He  ruminated  a  little 
with  a  most  disturbed  expression  of  face,  and  left  the  room 
in  search  of  Mary. 

But  Mary  had  gone  home  after  dressing  her  mistress,  and 
the  fat  boy  came  back  again  more  disturbed  than  before, 


THE   FAT  BOY   IS   MYSTERIOUS.  435 

Wardle  and  Mr.  Ben  Allen  exchanged  glances. 

"  Joe  ! "  said  Wardle. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"What  did  you  go  away  for?" 

The  fat  boy  looked  hopelessly  in  the  face  of  everybody  at 
table,  and  stammered  out,  that  he  didn't  know. 

"Oh,"  said  Wardle,  "you  don't  know,  eh?  Take  this 
cheese  to  Mr.  Pickwick."" 

Now,  Mr.  Pickwick  being  in  the  very  best  health  and  spirits, 
had  been  making  himself  perfectly  delightful  all  dinner-time, 
and  was  at  this  moment  engaged  in  an  energetic  conversation 
with  Emily  and  Mr.  Winkle :  bowing  his  head,  courteously, 
in  the  emphasis  of  his  discourse,  gently  waving  his  left  hand 
to  lend  force  to  his  observations,  and  all  glowing  with  placid 
smiles.  He  took  a  piece  of  cheese  from  the  plate,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  turning  round  to  renew  the  conversation,  when 
the  fat  boy,  stooping  so  as  to  bring  his  head  on  a  level  with 
that  of  Mr.  Pickwick,  pointed  with  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder, 
and  made  the  most  horrible  and  hideous  face  that  was  ever 
seen  out  of  a  Christmas  pantomime. 

"  Dear  me ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  starting,  "  what  a  very — 
eh  ? "  He  stopped,  for  the  fat  boy  had  drawn  himself  up, 
and  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  fast  asleep. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  inquired  Wardle. 

"This  is  such  an  extremely  singular  lad!"  replied  Mr. 
Pickwick,  looking  uneasily  at  the  boy.  "  It  seems  an  odd  thing 
to  say,  but  upon  my  word  I  am  afraid  that,  at  times,  he  is 
a  little  deranged." 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Pickwick,  pray  don't  say  so,"  cried  Emily  and 
Arabella,  both  at  once. 

"  I  am  not  certain,  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  amidst 
profound  silence,  and  looks  of  general  dismay ;  "  but  his  manner 
to  me  this  moment  was  really  very  alarming.  Oh  ! "  ejaculated 
Mr.  Pickwick,  suddenly  jumping  up  with  a  short  scream. 
"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies,  but  at  that  moment  he  ran  some 
sharp  instrument  into  my  leg.  Really  he  is  not  safe." 


436  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"He's  drunk,"  roared  old  Wardle,  passionately.  "Ring 
the  bell !  Call  the  waiters  !  He's  drunk." 

"  I  ain't,"  said  the  fat  boy,  falling  on  his  knees  as  his  master 
seized  him  by  the  collar.  "  I  ain't  drunk." 

"  Then  you're  mad ;  that's  worse.  Call  the  waiters,"  said 
the  old  gentleman. 

"I  ain't  mad;  I'm  sensible,"  rejoined  the  fat  boy,  beginning 
to  cry. 

"Then,  what  the  devil  do  you  run  sharp  instruments  into 
Mr.  Pickwick's  legs  for  ?  "  inquired  Wardle,  angrily. 

"He  wouldn't  look  at  me,"  replied  the  boy.  "I  wanted 
to  speak  to  him." 

"What  did  you  want  to  say?"  asked  half  a  dozen  voices 
at  once. 

The  fat  boy  gasped,  looked  at  the  bedroom  door,  gasped 
again,  and  wiped  two  tears  away  with  the  knuckle  of  each  of 
his  forefingers. 

"  What  did  you  want  to  say  ?  "  demanded  Wardle,  shaking 
him. 

"Stop!"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "allow  me.  What  did  you 
wish  to  communicate  to  me,  my  poor  boy?" 

"  I  want  to  whisper  to  you,"  replied  the  fat  boy. 

"You  want  to  bite  his  ear  off,  I  suppose,"  said  Wardle. 
"Don't  come  near  him;  he's  vicious;  ring  the  bell,  and  let 
him  be  taken  down  stairs." 

Just  as  Mr.  Winkle  caught  the  bell-rope  in  his  hand,  it 
was  arrested  by  a  general  expression  of  astonishment ;  the 
captive  lover,  his  face  burning  with  confusion,  suddenly  walked 
in  from  the  bedroom,  and  made  a  comprehensive  bow  to  the 
company. 

"  Hallo ! "  cried  Wardle,  releasing  the  fat  boy's  collar,  and 
staggering  back,  "  What's  this  ! " 

"I  have  been  concealed  in  the  next  room,  sir,  since  you 
returned,"  explained  Mr.  Snodgrass. 

" Emily,  my  girl,"  said  Wardle,  reproachfully,  "I  detest 
meanness  and  deceit ;  this  is  unjustifiable  and  indelicate  in  the 


THE   CAPTIVE   LOVER'S  EXPLANATION.     437 

highest  degree.  I  don't  deserve  this  at  your  hands,  Emily, 
indeed ! " 

"Dear  papa,"  said  Emily,  "Arabella  knows — everybody 
here  knows — Joe  knows — that  I  was  no  party  to  this  conceal- 
ment. Augustus,  for  Heaven's  sake,  explain  it ! " 

Mr.  Snodgrass,  who  had  only  waited  for  a  hearing,  at  once 
recounted  how  he  had  been  placed  in  his  then  distressing 
predicament ;  how  the  fear  of  giving  rise  to  domestic  dissensions 
had  alone  prompted  him  to  avoid  Mr.  Wardle  on  his  entrance ; 
how  he  merely  meant  to  depart  by  another  door,  but,  finding 
it  locked,  had  been  compelled  to  stay  against  his  will.  It 
was  a  painful  situation  to  be  placed  in ;  but  he  now  regretted 
it  the  less,  inasmuch  as  it  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of 
acknowledging,  before  their  mutual  friends,  that  he  loved  Mr. 
Wardle's  daughter,  deeply  and  sincerely ;  that  he  was  proud 
to  avow  that  the  feeling  was  mutual ;  and  that  if  thousands 
of  miles  were  placed  between  them,  or  oceans  rolled  their 
waters,  he  could  never  for  an  instant  forget  those  happy  days, 
when  first — and  so  on. 

Having  delivered  himself  to  this  effect,  Mr.  Snodgrass  bowed 
again,  looked  into  the  crown  of  his  hat,  and  stepped  towards 
the  door. 

"Stop!"  shouted  Wardle.  "Why,  in  the  name  of  all 
that's " 

"  Inflammable,"  mildly  suggested  Mr.  Pickwick,  who  thought 
something  worse  was  coming. 

"Well — that's  inflammable,"  said  Wardle,  adopting  the 
substitute ;  "  couldn't  you  say  all  this  to  me  in  the  first 
instance  ?  " 

"  Or  confide  in  me  ? "  added  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  Arabella,  taking  up  the  defence,  "  what 
is  the  use  of  asking  all  that  now,  especially  when  you  know 
you  had  set  your  covetous  old  heart  on  a  richer  son-in-law, 
and  are  so  wild  and  fierce  besides,  that  everybody  is  afraid  of 
you,  except  me.  Shake  hands  with  him,  and  order  him  some 
dinner,  for  goodness  gracious  sake,  for  he  looks  half-starved ; 


438  THE  PICKWICK   CLUB. 

and  pray  have  your  wine  up  at  once,  for  you'll  not  be  tolerable 
until  you  have  taken  two  bottles  at  least."" 

The  worthy  old  gentleman  pulled  Arabella's  ear,  kissed  her 
without  the  smallest  scruple,  kissed  his  daughter  also  with 
great  affection,  and  shook  Mr.  Snodgrass  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"She  is  right  on  one  point  at  all  events,11  said  the  old 
gentleman,  cheerfully.  "  Ring  for  the  wine  ! " 

The  wine  came,  and  Perker  came  up  stairs  at  the  same 
moment.  Mr.  Snodgrass  had  dinner  at  a  side  table,  and, 
when  he  had  despatched  it,  drew  his  chair  next  Emily,  with- 
out the  smallest  opposition  on  the  old  gentleman's  part. 

The  evening  was  excellent.  Little  Mr.  Perker  came  out 
wonderfully,  told  various  comic  stories,  and  sang  a  serious 
song  which  was  almost  as  funny  as  the  anecdotes.  Arabella 
was  very  charming,  Mr.  Wardle  very  jovial,  Mr.  Pickwick 
very  harmonious,  Mr.  Ben  Allen  very  uproarious,  the  lovers 
very  silent,  Mr.  Winkle  very  talkative,  and  all  of  them  very 
happy. 


CHAPTER   LV. 

MR.   SOLOMON  PELL,  ASSISTED  BY  A  SELECT    COMMITTEE  OF  COACH- 
MEN, ARRANGES  THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  ELDER  MR.   WELLER. 

"  SAMIVEL,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  accosting  his  son  on  the  morning 
after  the  funeral,  "I've  found  it,  Sammy.  I  thought  it  wos 
there. 

"Thought  wot  wos  were?""  inquired  Sam. 

"Your  mother-in-law's  vill,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 
"  In  wirtue  o1  vich,  them  arrangements  is  to  be  made  as  I 
told  you  on,  last  night,  respectin'  the  funs."" 

"  Wot,  didn't  she  tell  you  were  it  wos  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"Not  a  bit  on  it,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "We  wos 
a  adjestin'  our  little  differences,  and  I  wos  a  cheer-in*  her 
spirits  and  bearin'  her  up,  so  that  I  forgot  to  ask  anythin* 
about  it.  I  don't  know  as  I  should  ha"1  done  it  indeed,  if  I 
had  remembered  it,"  added  Mr.  Weller,  "  for  it's  a  rum  sort 
o'  thing,  Sammy,  to  go  a  hankerin'  arter  anybody's  property, 
ven  you're  assistin1  'em  in  illness.  It's  like  helping  an  outside 
passenger  up,  ven  he's  been  pitched  off  a  coach,  and  puttin' 
your  hand  in  his  pocket,  vile  you  ask  him  vith  a  sigh  how 
he  finds  hisself,  Sammy." 

With  this  figurative  illustration  of  his  meaning,  Mr.  Weller 
unclasped  his  pocket-book,  and  drew  forth  a  dirty  sheet  of 
letter  paper,  on  which  were  inscribed  various  characters 
crowded  together  in  remarkable  confusion. 

"This  here  is  the  dockyment,  Sammy,"  said  Mr.  Weller. 


440  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"I  found  it  in  the  little  black  teapot,  on  the  top  shelf  o' 
the  bar  closet.  She  used  to  keep  bank  notes  there,  afore  she 
vos  married,  Samivel.  I've  seen  her  take  the  lid  off,  to  pay  a 
bill,  many  and  many  a  time.  Poor  creeter,  she  might  ha'  filled 
all  the  teapots  in  the  house  vith  vills,  and  not  have  incon- 
vvenienced  herself  neither,  for  she  took  wery  little  of  anythin' 
in  that  vay  lately,  'cept  on  the  Temperance  nights,  ven  they 
just  laid  a  foundation  o'  tea  to  put  the  spirits  a-top  on ! " 

"  What  does  it  say  ?  "  inquired  Sam. 

"  Jist  vot  I  told  you,  my  boy,"  rejoined  his  parent.  "Two 
hundred  pound  vurth  o'  reduced  counsels  to  my  son-in-law, 
Samivel,  and  all  the  rest  o'  my  property,  of  ev'ry  kind  and 
description  votsoever  to  my  husband,  Mr.  Tony  Veller,  who 
I  appint  as  my  sole  eggzekiter." 

"  That's  all,  is  it  ?  "  said  Sam. 

"That's  all,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "And  I  s'pose  as  it's 
all  right  and  satisfactory  to  you  and  me  as  is  the  only  parties 
interested,  ve  may  as  veil  put  this  bit  o'  paper  into  the  fire." 

"  Wot  are  you  a-doin'  on,  you  lunatic  ?  "  said  Sam,  snatching 
the  paper  away,  as  his  parent,  in  all  innocence,  stirred  the 
fire  preparatory  to  suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  "  You're 
a  nice  eggzekiter,  you  are." 

"Vy  not?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller,  looking  sternly  round, 
with  the  poker  in  his  hand. 

"  Vy  not ! "  exclaimed  Sam.  "  'Cos  it  must  be  proved,  and 
probated,  and  swore  to,  and  all  manner  o'  formalities." 

"You  don't  mean  that?"  said  Mr.  Weller,  laying  down 
the  poker. 

Sam  buttoned  the  will  carefully  in  a  side  pocket;  inti- 
mating by  a  look,  meanwhile,  that  he  did  mean  it,  and  very 
seriously  too. 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  wot  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  after  a 
short  meditation,  "  this  is  a  case  for  that  'ere  confidential  pal 
o'  the  Chancellorship's.  Pell  must  look  into  this,  Sammy. 
He's  the  man  for  a  difficult  question  at  law.  Veil  have 
this  here,  brought  afore  the  Solvent  Court  directly,  Samivel." 


WIDTH   AND  WISDOM.  441 

"  I  never  did  see  such  a  addle-headed  old  creetur  ! "  exclaimed 
Sam,  irritably,  "  Old  Baileys,  and  Solvent  Courts,  and  alleybis, 
and  ev'ry  species  o'  gammon  alvays  a  runnin'  through  his 
brain !  You'd  better  get  your  out  o'  door  clothes  on,  and 
come  to  town  about  this  bisness,  than  stand  a  preachin'  there 
about  wot  you  don't  understand  nothin'  on." 

"  Wery  good,  Sammy,11  replied  Mr.  Weller,  "  I'm  quite 
agreeable  to  anythin'  as  vill  hexpedite  business,  Sammy.  But 
mind  this  here,  my  boy,  nobody  but  Pell — nobody  but  Pell 
as  a  legal  adwiser." 

"I  don't  want  anybody  else,"  replied  Sam.  "Now,  are 
you  a-comin'  ?  " 

"Vait  a  minit,  Sammy,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  who,  having 
tied  his  shawl  with  the  aid  of  a  small  glass  that  hung  in  the 
window,  was  now,  by  dint  of  the  most  wonderful  exertions, 
struggling  into  his  upper  garments.  "Vait  a  minit,  Sammy; 
ven  you  grow  as  old  as  your  father,  you  von't  get  into  your 
veskit  quite  as  easy  as  you  do  now,  my  boy." 

"If  I  couldn't  get  into  it  easier  than  that,  I'm  blessed  if 
I'd  vear  vun  at  all,"  rejoined  his  son. 

"You  think  so  now,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  the  gravity  of 
age,  "but  you'll  find  that  as  you  get  vider,  you'll  get  viser. 
Vidth  and  visdom,  Sammy,  alvays  grows  together." 

As  Mr.  Weller  delivered  this  infallible  maxim — the  result 
of  many  years'  personal  experience  and  observation — he  con- 
trived, by  a  dexterous  twist  of  his  body,  to  get  the  bottom 
button  of  his  coat  to  perform  its  office.  Having  paused  a 
few  seconds  to  recover  breath,  he  brushed  his  hat  with  his 
elbow,  and  declared  himself  ready. 

"As  four  heads  is  better  than  two,  Sammy,"  said  Mr. 
Weller,  as  they  drove  along  the  London  Road  in  the  chaise 
cart,  "and  as  all  this  here  property  is  a  wery  great  tempta- 
tion to  a  legal  gen'l'm'n,  ve'll  take  a  couple  o'  friends  o' 
mine  vith  us,  as'll  be  wery  soon  down  upon  him  if  he  comes 
anythin'  irreg'lar;  two  o'  them  as  saw  you  to  the  Fleet 
that  day.  They're  the  wery  best  judges,"  added  Mr.  Weller 


442  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

in  a  half  whisper,  "  the  wery  best  judges  of  a  horse,  you  ever 
know'd." 

"And  of  a  lawyer  too?"  inquired  Sam. 

"The  man  as  can  form  a  ackerate  judgment  of  a  animal, 
can  form  a  ackerate  judgment  of  any  thin1,1'  replied  his  father ; 
so  dogmatically,  that  Sam  did  not  attempt  to  controvert  the 
position. 

In  pursuance  of  this  notable  resolution,  the  services  of  the 
mottled-faced  gentleman  and  of  two  other  very  fat  coachmen 
— selected  by  Mr.  Weller,  probably,  with  a  view  to  their 
width  and  consequent  wisdom — were  put  into  requisition ; 
and  this  assistance  having  been  secured,  the  party  proceeded 
to  the  public-house  in  Portugal  Street,  whence  a  messenger 
was  despatched  to  the  Insolvent  Court  over  the  way,  requiring 
Mr.  Solomon  PelPs  immediate  attendance. 

The  messenger  fortunately  found  Mr.  Solomon  Pell  in  court, 
regaling  himself,  business  being  rather  slack,  with  a  cold 
collation  of  an  Abernethy  biscuit  and  a  saveloy.  The  message 
was  no  sooner  whispered  in  his  ear  than  he  thrust  them  in 
his  pocket  among  various  professional  documents,  and  hurried 
over  the  way  with  such  alacrity,  that  he  reached  the  parlour 
before  the  messenger  had  even  emancipated  himself  from  the 
court. 

"  Gentlemen,11  said  Mr.  Pell,  touching  his  hat,  "  my  service 
to  you  all.  I  don't  say  it  to  flatter  you,  gentlemen,  but 
there  are  not  five  other  men  in  the  world,  that  I'd  have  come 
out  of  that  court  for,  to-day."" 

"So  busy,  eh?11  said  Sam. 

"  Busy ! "  replied  Pell ;  "  I'm  completely  sewn  up,  as  my 
friend  the  late  Lord  Chancellor  many  a  time  used  to  say 
to  me,  gentlemen,  when  he  came  out  from  hearing  appeals  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  Poor  fellow !  he  was  very  susceptible 
of  fatigue;  he  used  to  feel  those  appeals  uncommonly.  I 
actually  thought  more  than  once  that  he'd  have  sunk  under 
'em ;  I  did  indeed.11 

Here  Mr.  Pell  shook  his  head  and  paused ;  on  which,  the 


FURTHER  GLIMPSES  OF  MR.   PELL.         443 

elder  Mr.  Weller,  nudging  his  neighbour,  as  begging  him  to 
mark  the  attorney's  high  connections,  asked  whether  the  duties 
in  question  produced  any  permanent  ill  effects  on  the  con- 
stitution of  his  noble  friend. 

"  I  don't  think  he  ever  quite  recovered  them,""  replied  Pell ; 
"in  fact  I'm  sure  he  never  did.  'Pell,1  he  used  to  say  to  me 
many  a  time,  'how  the  blazes  you  can  stand  the  head-work 
you  do,  is  a  mystery  to  me/ — 'Well,1  I  used  to  answer,  '/ 
hardly  know  how  I  do  it,  upon  my  life.1 — 'Pell,1  he'd  add, 
sighing,  and  looking  at  me  with  a  little  envy — friendly  envy, 
you  know,  gentlemen,  mere  friendly  envy;  I  never  minded 
it — '  Pell,  you're  a  wonder ;  a  wonder.'  Ah  !  you'd  have  liked 
him  very  much  if  you  had  known  him,  gentlemen.  Bring  me 
three  penn'orth  of  rum,  my  dear." 

Addressing  this  latter  remark  to  the  waitress  in  a  tone  of 
subdued  grief,  Mr.  Pell  sighed,  looked  at  his  shoes,  and  the 
ceiling;  and,  the  rum  having  by  that  time  arrived,  drunk 
it  up. 

"  However,"  said  Pell,  drawing  a  chair  to  the  table,  "  a 
professional  man  has  no  right  to  think  of  his  private  friend- 
ships when  his  legal  assistance  is  wanted.  By  the  bye, 
gentlemen,  since  I  saw  you  here  before,  we  have  had  to  weep 
over  a  very  melancholy  occurrence." 

Mr.  Pell  drew  out  a  pocket-handkerchief,  when  he  came 
to  the  word  weep,  but  he  made  no  further  use  of  it  than 
to  wipe  away  a  slight  tinge  of  rum  which  hung  upon  his 
upper  lip. 

"I  saw  it  in  the  Advertiser,  Mr.  Weller,"  continued  Pell. 
"Bless  my  soul,  not  more  than  fifty-two!  Dear  me — only 
think." 

These  indications  of  a  musing  spirit  were  addressed  to  the 
mottled-faced  man,  whose  eyes  Mr.  Pell  had  accidentally 
caught ;  on  which,  the  mottled-faced  man,  whose  appre- 
hension of  matters  in  general  was  of  a  foggy  nature,  moved 
uneasily  in  his  seat,  and  opined  that  indeed,  so  far  as  that 
went,  there  was  no  saying  how  things  was  brought  about; 


444  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

which  observation,  involving  one  of  those  subtle  propositions 
which  it  is  difficult  to  encounter  in  argument,  was  controverted 
by  nobody. 

"  I  have  heard  it  remarked  that  she  was  a  very  fine  woman, 
Mr.  Weller,"  said  Pell  in  a  sympathising  manner. 

"  Yes,  sir,  she  wos,"  replied  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  not  much 
relishing  this  mode  of  discussing  the  subject,  and  yet  thinking 
that  the  attorney,  from  his  long  intimacy  with  the  late  Lord 
Chancellor,  must  know  best  on  all  matters  of  polite  breeding. 
"She  wos  a  wery  fine  'ooman,  sir,  ven  I  first  know'd  her. 
She  wos  a  widder,  sir,  at  that  time." 

"  Now,  it's  curious,"  said  Pell,  looking  round  with  a  sorrowful 
smile;  "Mrs.  Pell  was  a  widow.1' 

"That's  very  extraordinary,"  said  the  mottled-faced  man. 

"  Well,  it  is  a  curious  coincidence,"  said  Pell. 

"Not  at  all,"  gruffly  remarked  the  elder  Mr.  Weller. 
"More  widders  is  married  than  single  wimin." 

"Very  good,  very  good,"  said  Pell,  "you're  quite  right, 
Mr.  Weller.  Mrs.  Pell  was  a  very  elegant  and  accomplished 
woman ;  her  manners  were  the  theme  of  universal  admiration 
in  our  neighbourhood.  I  was  proud  to  see  that  woman  dance  ; 
there  was  something  so  firm  and  dignified,  and  yet  natural, 
in  her  motion.  Her  cutting,  gentlemen,  was  simplicity  itself. 
Ah  !  well,  well !  Excuse  my  asking  the  question,  Mr.  Samuel," 
continued  the  attorney  in  a  lower  voice,  "  was  your  mother- 
in-law  tall?" 

"Not  wery,"  replied  Sam. 

"  Mrs.  Pell  was  a  tall  figure,"  said  Pell,  "  a  splendid  woman, 
with  a  noble  shape,  and  a  nose,  gentlemen,  formed  to  command 
and  be  majestic.  She  was  very  much  attached  to  me — very 
much — highly  connected,  too.  Her  mother's  brother,  gentle- 
men, failed  for  eight  hundred  pounds,  as  a  Law  Stationer." 

"Veil,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  who  had  grown  rather  restless 
during  this  discussion,  "  vith  regard  to  bis'ness." 

The  word  was  music  to  Pell's  ears.  He  had  been  revolving 
in  his  mind  whether  any  business  was  to  be  transacted,  or 


TESTAMENTARY  BUSINESS.  445 

whether  he  had  been  merely  invited  to  partake  of  a  glass  of 
brandy  and  water,  or  a  bowl  of  punch,  or  any  similar  pro- 
fessional compliment,  and  now  the  doubt  was  set  at  rest 
without  his  appearing  at  all  eager  for  its  solution.  His  eyes 
glistened  as  he  laid  his  hat  on  the  table,  and  said : 

"  What  is  the  business  upon  which — um  ?  Either  of  these 
gentlemen  wish  to  go  through  the  court  ?  We  require  an 
arrest ;  a  friendly  arrest  will  do,  you  know ;  we  are  all  friends 
here,  I  suppose  ?  11 

"  Give  me  the  dockyment,  Sammy,'1  said  Mr.  Weller,  taking 
the  will  from  his  son,  who  appeared  to  enjoy  the  interview 
amazingly.  "  Wot  we  rekvire,  sir,  is  a  probe  o1  this  here." 

"  Probate,  my  dear  sir,  probate,"  said  Pell. 

"  Well,  sir,11  replied  Mr.  Weller  sharply,  "  probe  and  probe 
it,  is  wery  much  the  same ;  if  you  don't  understand  wot  I 
mean,  sir,  I  dessay  I  can  find  them  as  does.11 

«  No  offence,  I  hope,  Mr.  Weller,11  said  Pell,  meekly.  "  You 
are  the  executor,  I  see,11  he  added,  casting  his  eyes  over  the 
paper. 

"I  am,  sir,11  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"  These  other  gentlemen,  I  presume,  are  legatees,  are  they  ?  " 
inquired  Pell  with  a  congratulatory  smile. 

"Sammy  is  a  leg-at-ease,11  replied  Mr.  Weller;  "these 
other  genTnVn  is  friends  o1  mine,  just  come  to  see  fair;  a 
kind  of  umpires.11 

"  Oh ! "  said  Pell,  "  very  good.  I  have  no  objections,  Tni 
sure.  I  shall  want  a  matter  of  five  pound  of  you  before  I 
begin,  ha !  ha !  ha !  " 

It  being  decided  by  the  committee  that  the  five  pound  might 
be  advanced,  Mr.  Weller  produced  that  sum ;  after  which,  a 
long  consultation  about  nothing  particular,  took  place,  in  the 
course  whereof  Mr.  Pell  demonstrated  to  the  perfect  satisfac- 
tion of  the  gentlemen  who  saw  fair,  that  unless  the  manage- 
ment of  the  business  had  been  intrusted  to  him,  it  must  all 
have  gone  wrong,  for  reasons  not  clearly  made  out,  but  no 
doubt  sufficient.  This  important  point  being  despatched, 


446  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Mr.  Pell  refreshed  himself  with  three  chops,  and  liquids  both 
malt  and  spirituous,  at  the  expense  of  the  estate ;  and  then 
they  all  went  away  to  Doctors'  Commons. 

The  next  day,  there  was  another  visit  to  Doctors'  Commons, 
and  a  great  to  do  with  an  attesting  hostler,  who,  being 
inebriated,  declined  swearing  anything  but  profane  oaths,  to 
the  great  scandal  of  a  proctor  and  surrogate.  Next  week, 
there  were  more  visits  to  Doctors'  Commons,  and  there  was 
a  visit  to  the  Legacy  Duty  Office  besides,  and  there  were 
treaties  entered  into,  for  the  disposal  of  the  lease  and  busi- 
ness, and  ratifications  of  the  same,  and  inventories  to  be  made 
out,  and  lunches  to  be  taken,  and  dinners  to  be  eaten,  and 
so  many  profitable  things  to  be  done,  and  such  a  mass  of 
papers  accumulated,  that  Mr.  Solomon  Pell,  and  the  boy, 
and  the  blue  bag  to  boot,  all  got  so  stout  that  scarcely 
anybody  would  have  known  them  for  the  same  man,  boy,  and 
bag,  that  had  loitered  about  Portugal  Street,  a  few  days  before. 

At  length  all  these  weighty  matters  being  arranged,  a  day 
was  fixed  for  selling  out  and  transferring  the  stock,  and  of 
waiting  with  that  view  upon  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esq.,  stock- 
broker, of  somewhere  near  the  Bank,  who  had  been  recom- 
mended by  Mr.  Solomon  Pell  for  the  purpose. 

It  was  a  kind  of  festive  occasion,  and  the  parties  were 
attired  accordingly.  Mr.  Weller's  tops  were  newly  cleaned, 
and  his  dress  was  arranged  with  peculiar  care;  the  mottled- 
faced  gentleman  wore  at  his  button-hole  a  full-sized  dahlia 
with  several  leaves;  and  the  coats  of  his  two  friends  were 
adorned  with  nosegays  of  laurel  and  other  evergreens.  All 
three  were  habited  in  strict  holiday  costume;  that  is  to  say, 
they  were  wrapped  up  to  the  chins,  and  wore  as  many  clothes 
as  possible,  which  is,  and  has  been,  a  stage-coachman's  idea  of 
full  dress  ever  since  stage  coaches  were  invented. 

Mr.  Pell  was  waiting  at  the  usual  place  of  meeting  at  the 
appointed  time ;  even  Mr.  Pell  wore  a  pair  of  gloves  and 
a  clean  shirt  much  frayed  at  the  collar  and  wristbands  by 
frequent  washings. 


A  SUBSTANTIAL  LUNCHEON.  447 

"  A  quarter  to  two,"  said  Pell,  looking  at  the  parlour  clock. 
"  If  we  are  with  Mr.  Flasher  at  a  quarter  past,  we  shall  just 
hit  the  best  time." 

"What  should  you  say  to  a  drop  o'  beer,  genTm'n?"  sug- 
gested the  mottled-faced  man. 

"  And  a  little  bit  o'  cold  beef,1'  said  the  second  coachman. 

"  Or  a  oyster,1'  added  the  third,  who  was  a  hoarse  gentle- 
man, supported  by  very  round  legs. 

"Hear,  hear!"  said  Pell;  "to  congratulate  Mr.  Weller, 
on  his  coming  into  possession  of  his  property  :  eh  ?  ha !  ha  ! " 

"I'm  quite  agreeable,  gen'l'm'n,"  answered  Mr.  Weller. 
"  Sammy,  pull  the  bell." 

Sam  complied ;  and  the  porter,  cold  beef,  and  oysters  being 
promptly  produced,  the  lunch  was  done  ample  justice  to. 
Where  everybody  took  so  active  a  part,  it  is  almost  invidious 
to  make  a  distinction ;  but  if  one  individual  evinced  greater 
powers  than  another,  it  was  the  coachman  with  the  hoarse 
voice,  who  took  an  imperial  pint  of  vinegar  with  his  oysters, 
without  betraying  the  least  emotion. 

"  Mr.  Pell,  sir,"  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  stirring  a  glass 
of  brandy  and  water,  of  which  one  was  placed  before  every 
gentleman  when  the  oyster  shells  were  removed,  "Mr.  Pell, 
sir,  it  wos  my  intention  to  have  proposed  the  funs  on  this 
occasion,  but  Samivel  has  vispered  to  me — " 

Here  Mr.  Samuel  Weller,  who  had  silently  eaten  his  oysters 
with  tranquil  smiles,  cried  "  Hear ! "  in  a  very  loud  voice. 

"  — Has  vispered  to  me,"  resumed  his  father,  "  that  it  vould 
be  better  to  dewote  the  liquor  to  vishin'  you  success  and 
prosperity,  and  thankin1  you  for  the  manner  in  which  you've 
brought  this  here  business  through.  Here's  your  health,  sir." 

"  Hold  hard  there,"  interposed  the  mottled-faced  gentleman, 
with  sudden  energy,  "  your  eyes  on  me,  gen'l'm'n ! " 

Saying  this,  the  mottled-faced  gentleman  rose,  as  did  the 
other  gentlemen.  The  mottled-faced  gentleman  reviewed 
the  company,  and  slowly  lifted  his  hand,  upon  which  every 
man  (including  him  of  the  mottled  countenance)  drew  a  long 


448  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

breath,  and  lifted  his  tumbler  to  his  lips.  In  one  instant 
the  mottled-faced  gentleman  depressed  his  hand  again,  and 
every  glass  was  set  down  empty.  It  is  impossible  to  describe 
the  thrilling  effect  produced  by  this  striking  ceremony.  At 
once  dignified,  solemn,  and  impressive,  it  combined  every 
element  of  grandeur. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pell,  "all  I  can  say  is,  that 
such  marks  of  confidence  must  be  very  gratifying  to  a  pro- 
fessional man.  I  don't  wish  to  say  anything  that  might 
appear  egotistical,  gentlemen,  but  I'm  very  glad,  for  your 
own  sakes,  that  you  came  to  me  :  that's  all.  If  you  had  gone 
to  any  low  member  of  the  profession,  it's  my  firm  conviction, 
and  I  assure  you  of  it  as  a  fact,  that  you  would  have  found 
yourselves  in  Queer  Street  before  this.  I  could  have  wished 
my  noble  friend  had  been  alive  to  have  seen  my  management 
of  this  case.  I  don't  say  it  out  of  pride,  but  I  think — how- 
ever, gentlemen,  I  won't  trouble  you  with  that.  I'm  gene- 
rally to  be  found  here,  gentlemen,  but  if  I'm  not  here,  or 
over  the  way,  that's  my  address.  You'll  find  my  terms  very 
cheap  and  reasonable,  and  no  man  attends  more  to  his  clients 
than  I  do,  and  I  hope  I  know  a  little  of  my  profession 
besides.  If  you  have  any  opportunity  of  recommending  me 
to  any  of  your  friends,  gentlemen,  I  shall  be  very  much  obliged 
to  you,  and  so  will  they  too,  when  they  come  to  know  me. 
Your  healths,  gentlemen." 

With  this  expression  of  his  feelings,  Mr.  Solomon  Pell  laid 
three  small  written  cards  before  Mr.  Weller's  friends,  and, 
looking  at  the  clock  again,  feared  it  was  time  to  be  walking. 
Upon  this  hint  Mr.  Weller  settled  the  bill,  and,  issuing  forth, 
the  executor,  legatee,  attorney,  and  umpires,  directed  their 
steps  towards  the  City. 

The  office  of  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  was  in  a  first  floor  up  a  court  behind  the  Bank  of 
England;  the  house  of  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  was  at 
Brixton,  Surrey ;  the  horse  and  stanhope  of  Wilkins  Flasher, 
Esquire,  were  at  an  adjacent  livery  stable;  the  groom  of 


ON   THE   STOCK   EXCHANGE.  449 

Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  was  on  his  way  to  the  West  End 
to  deliver  some  game ;  the  clerk  of  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire, 
had  gone  to  his  dinner;  and  so  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire, 
himself,  cried,  "  Come  in,"  when  Mr.  Pell  and  his  companions 
knocked  at  the  counting-house  door. 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  said  Pell,  bowing  obsequiously. 
"  We  want  to  make  a  little  transfer,  if  you  please." 

"  Oh,  come  in,  will  you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Flasher.  "  Sit  down  a 
minute ;  Til  attend  to  you  directly." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pell,  "there's  no  hurry.  Take  a 
chair,  Mr.  Weller." 

Mr.  Weller  took  a  chair,  and  Sam  took  a  box,  and  the 
umpires  took  what  they  could  get,  and  looked  at  the  almanack 
and  one  or  two  papers  which  were  wafered  against  the  wall, 
with  as  much  open-eyed  reverence  as  if  they  had  been  the  finest 
efforts  of  the  old  masters. 

"  Well,  Til  bet  you  half  a  dozen  of  claret  on  it ;  come ! " 
said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  resuming  the  conversation  to 
which  Mr.  PelPs  entrance  had  caused  a  momentary  interrup- 
tion. 

This  was  addressed  to  a  very  smart  young  gentleman  who 
wore  his  hat  on  his  right  whisker,  and  was  lounging  over  the 
desk,  killing  flies  with  a  ruler.  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  was 
balancing  himself  on  two  legs  of  an  office  stool,  spearing  a 
wafer-box  with  a  pen-knife,  which  he  dropped  every  now  and 
then  with  great  dexterity  into  the  very  centre  of  a  small 
red  wafer  that  was  stuck  outside.  Both  gentlemen  had  very 
open  waistcoats  and  very  rolling  collars,  and  very  small 
boots,  and  very  big  rings,  and  very  little  watches,  and  very 
large  guard  chains,  and  symmetrical  inexpressibles,  and  scented 
pocket-handkerchiefs. 

"I  never  bet  half  a  dozen,"  said  the  other  gentleman. 
"  Til  take  a  dozen." 

"  Done,  Simmery,  done ! "  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 

«  P.  P.,  mind,"  observed  the  other. 

"Of  course,"  replied  Wilkins  Flasher,   Esquire.     Wilkins 

VOL.   II.  2  G 


4.50  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Flasher,  Esquire,  entered  it  in  a  little  book,  with  a  gold 
pencil-case,  and  the  other  gentleman  entered  it  also,  in  another 
little  book  with  another  gold  pencil-case. 

"I  see  there's  a  notice  up  this  morning  about  Boffer," 
observed  Mr.  Simmery.  "  Poor  devil,  he's  expelled  the  house ! " 

"  I'll  bet  you  ten  guineas  to  five,  he  cuts  his  throat,"  said 
Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 

"Done,"  replied  Mr.  Simmery. 

"  Stop  !  I  bar,"  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  thoughtfully. 
"Perhaps  he  may  hang  himself." 

"Very  good,"  rejoined  Mr.  Simmery,  pulling  out  the  gold 
pencil-case  again.  "I've  no  objection  to  take  you  that  way. 
Say,  makes  away  with  himself." 

"Kills  himself,  in  fact,"  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 

"  Just  so,"  replied  Mr.  Simmery,  putting  it  down.  " '  Flasher 
— ten  guineas  to  five,  Boffer  kills  himself.'  Within  what 
time  shall  we  say  ?  " 

"A  fortnight?"  suggested  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 

"Con-found  it,  no;"  rejoined  Mr.  Simmery,  stopping  for 
an  instant  to  smash  a  fly  with  the  ruler.  "Say  a  week." 

"Split  the  difference,"  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 
"  Make  it  ten  days." 

"Well;  ten  days,"  rejoined  Mr.  Simmery. 

So,  it  was  entered  down  in  the  little  books  that  Boffer 
was  to  kill  himself  within  ten  days,  or  Wilkins  Flasher, 
Esquire,  was  to  hand  over  to  Frank  Simmery,  Esquire,  the 
sum  of  ten  guineas ;  and  that  if  Boffer  did  kill  himself  within 
that  time,  Frank  Simmery,  Esquire,  would  pay  to  Wilkins 
Flasher,  Esquire,  five  guineas,  instead. 

"  I'm  very  sorry  he  has  failed,"  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire. 
"  Capital  dinners  he  gave." 

"Fine  port  he  had  too,"  remarked  Mr.  Simmery.  "We 
are  going  to  send  our  butler  to  the  sale  to-morrow,  to  pick 
up  some  of  that  sixty-four." 

"  The  devil  you  are,"  said  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire.  "  My 
man's  going  too.  Five  guineas  my  man  outbids  your  man." 


AT  THE   BANK  OF  ENGLAND.  451 

"  Done." 

Another  entry  was  made  in  the  little  books,  with  the  gold 
pencil-cases ;  and  Mr.  Simmery  having,  by  this  time,  killed 
all  the  flies  and  taken  all  the  bets,  strolled  away  to  the  Stock 
Exchange  to  see  what  was  going  forward. 

Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  now  condescended  to  receive  Mr. 
Solomon  Pell's  instructions,  and  having  filled  up  some  printed 
forms,  requested  the  party  to  follow  him  to  the  Bank :  which 
they  did :  Mr.  Weller  and  his  three  friends  staring  at  all 
they  beheld  in  unbounded  astonishment,  and  Sam  encountering 
everything  with  a  coolness  which  nothing  could  disturb. 

Crossing  a  court-yard  which  was  all  noise  and  bustle ;  and 
passing  a  couple  of  porters  who  seemed  dressed  to  match  the 
red  fire  engine  which  was  wheeled  away  into  a  corner ;  they 
passed  into  an  office  where  their  business  was  to  be  transacted, 
and  where  Pell  and  Mr.  Flasher  left  them  standing  for  a  few 
moments,  while  they  went  up  stairs  into  the  Will  Office. 

"  Wot  place  is  this  here  ? "  whispered  the  mottled-faced 
gentleman  to  the  elder  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Counsel's  Office,11  replied  the  executor  in  a  whisper. 

"  Wot  are  them  genTmen  a  settin'  behind  the  counters  ? " 
asked  the  hoarse  coachman. 

"Reduced  counsels,  I  s'pose,"  replied  Mr.  Weller.  "Ain't 
they  the  reduced  counsels,  Samivel  ? " 

"Wy,  you  don't  suppose  the  reduced  counsels  is  alive,  do 
you?"  inquired  Sam,  with  some  disdain. 

"How  should  I  know?"  retorted  Mr.  Weller;  "I  thought 
they  looked  wery  like  it.  Wot  are  they,  then  ?  " 

"  Clerks,"  replied  Sam. 

"Wot  are  they  all  a  eatin'  ham  sangwidges  for?"  inquired 
his  father. 

"'Cos  it's  in  their  dooty,  I  suppose,"  replied  Sam,  "it's  a 
part  o1  the  system ;  they're  alvays  a  doin'  it  here,  all  day 
long ! " 

Mr.  Weller  and  his  friends  had  scarcely  had  a  moment  to 
reflect  upon  this  singular  regulation  as  connected  with  the 


452  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

monetary  system  of  the  country,  when  they  were  rejoined  by 
Pell  and  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  who  led  them  to  a  part 
of  the  counter  above  which  was  a  round  black  board  with  a 
large  «  Wr  on  it. 

"Wot's  that  for,  sir?"  inquired  Mr.  Weller,  directing 
Pell's  attention  to  the  target  in  question. 

"  The  first  letter  of  the  name  of  the  deceased,"  replied  Pell. 

"  I  say,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  turning  round  to  the  umpires. 
"There's  somethin'  wrong  here.  We's  our  letter — this  won't 
do." 

The  referees  at  once  gave  it  as  their  decided  opinion 
that  the  business  could  not  be  legally  proceeded  with,  under 
the  letter  W,  and  in  all  probability  it  would  have  stood  over 
for  one  day  at  least,  had  it  not  been  for  the  prompt,  though, 
at  first  sight,  undutiful  behaviour  of  Sam,  who,  seizing  his 
father  by  the  skirt  of  the  coat,  dragged  him  to  the  counter, 
and  pinned  him  there,  until  he  had  affixed  his  signature  to 
a  couple  of  instruments;  which  from  Mr.  Welter's  habit  of 
printing,  was  a  work  of  so  much  labour  and  time,  that  the 
officiating  clerk  peeled  and  ate  three  Ripstone  pippins  while 
it  was  performing. 

As  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  insisted  on  selling  out  his  portion 
forthwith,  they  proceeded  from  the  Bank  to  the  gate  of  the 
Stock  Exchange,  to  which  Wilkins  Flasher,  Esquire,  after  a 
short  absence,  returned  with  a  cheque  on  Smith,  Payne,  and 
Smith,  for  five  hundred  and  thirty  pounds ;  that  being  the 
sum  of  money  to  which  Mr.  Weller  at  the  market  price  of 
the  day,  was  entitled,  in  consideration  of  the  balance  of  the 
second  Mrs.  Weller's  funded  savings.  Sam's  two  hundred 
pounds  stood  transferred  to  his  name,  and  Wilkins  Flasher, 
Esquire,  having  been  paid  his  commission,  dropped  the 
money  carelessly  into  his  coat  pocket,  and  lounged  back 
to  his  office. 

Mr.  Weller  was  at  first  obstinately  determined  on  cashing 
the  cheque  in  nothing  but  sovereigns :  but  it  being  represented 
by  the  umpires  that  by  so  doing  he  must  incur  the  expense 


THE   ACCOUNTS  ARE   AUDITED.  453 

of  a  small  sack  to  carry  them  home  in,  he  consented  to  receive 
the  amount  in  five-pound  notes. 

"My  son,11  said  Mr.  Weller  as  they  came  out  of  the 
banking-house,  "my  son  and  me  has  a  wery  particular 
engagement  this  arternoon,  and  I  should  like  to  have  this 
here  bis^ess  settled  out  of  hand,  so  let's  jest  go  straight  avay 
someveres,  vere  ve  can  hordit  the  accounts.11 

A  quiet  room  was  soon  found,  and  the  accounts  were 
produced  and  audited.  Mr.  PelPs  bill  was  taxed  by  Sam,  and 
some  charges  were  disallowed  by  the  umpires ;  but,  notwith- 
standing Mr.  Pell's  declaration,  accompanied  with  many  solemn 
asseverations  that  they  were  really  too  hard  upon  him,  it 
was  by  very  many  degrees  the  best  professional  job  he  had 
ever  had,  and  one  on  which  he  boarded,  lodged,  and  washed, 
for  six  months  afterwards. 

The  umpires  having  partaken  of  a  dram,  shook  hands  and 
departed,  as  they  had  to  drive  out  of  town  that  night.  Mr. 
Solomon  Pell,  finding  that  nothing  more  was  going  forward, 
either  in  the  eating  or  drinking  way,  took  a  friendly  leave, 
and  Sam  and  his  father  were  left  alone. 

"There!11  said  Mr.  Weller,  thrusting  his  pocket-book  in 
his  side  pocket.  "Vith  the  bills  for  the  lease,  and  that, 
there's  eleven  hundred  and  eighty  pound  here.  Now,  Samivcl, 
my  boy,  turn  the  horses1  heads  to  the  George  and  Wulter !  ' 


CHAPTER   LVI. 

AN  IMPORTANT  CONFERENCE  TAKES  PLACE  BETWEEN  MR.  PICK- 
WICK AND  SAMUEL  WELLER,  AT  WHICH  HIS  PARENT  ASSISTS. 
AN  OLD  GENTLEMAN  IN  A  SNUFF-COLOURED  SUIT  ARRIVES 
UNEXPECTEDLY. 

MR.  PICKWICK  was  sitting  alone,  musing  over  many  things, 
and  thinking  among  other  considerations  how  he  could  best 
provide  for  the  young  couple  whose  present  unsettled  con- 
dition was  matter  of  constant  regret  and  anxiety  to  him, 
when  Mary  stepped  lightly  into  the  room,  and,  advancing 
to  the  table,  said,  rather  hastily : 

"  Oh.  if  you  please,  sir,  Samuel  is  down  stairs,  and  he  says 
may  his  father  see  you  ?  " 

"Surely,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mary,  tripping  towards  the  door 
again. 

"Sam  has  not  been  here  long,  has  he?"  inquired  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  replied  Mary  eagerly.  "  He  has  only  just 
come  home.  He  is  not  going  to  ask  you  for  any  more  leave, 
sir,  he  says." 

Mary  might  have  been  conscious  that  she  had  communicated 
this  last  intelligence  with  more  warmth  than  seemed  actually 
necessary,  or  she  might  have  observed  the  good-humoured 
smile  with  which  Mr.  Pickwick  regarded  her,  when  she  had 
finished  speaking.  She  certainly  held  down  her  head,  and 


SAM'S  REWARD.  455 

examined  the  corner  of  a  very  smart  little  apron,  with  more 
closeness  than  there  appeared  any  absolute  occasion  for. 

"Tell  them  they  can  come  up  at  once,  by  all  means,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick. 

Mary,  apparently  much  relieved,  hurried  away  with  her 
message. 

Mr.  Pickwick  took  two  or  three  turns  up  and  down  the 
room ;  and  rubbing  his  chin  with  his  left  hand  as  he  did  so, 
appeared  lost  in  thought. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  at  length,  in  a  kind  but 
somewhat  melancholy  tone,  "it  is  the  best  way  in  which  I 
could  reward  him  for  his  attachment  and  fidelity ;  let  it  be 
so,  in  Heaven's  name.  It  is  the  fate  of  a  lonely  old  man, 
that  those  about  him  should  form  new  and  different  attach- 
ments and  leave  him.  I  have  no  right  to  expect  that  it 
should  be  otherwise  with  me.  No,  no,"  added  Mr.  Pickwick 
more  cheerfully,  "  it  would  be  selfish  and  ungrateful.  I  ought 
to  be  happy  to  have  an  opportunity  of  providing  for  him  so 
well.  I  am.  Of  course  I  am." 

Mr.  Pickwick  had  been  so  absorbed  in  these  reflections, 
that  a  knock  at  the  door  was  three  or  four  times  repeated 
before  he  heard  it.  Hastily  seating  himself,  and  calling  up 
his  accustomed  pleasant  looks,  he  gave  the  required  pel-mission, 
and  Sam  Weller  entered,  followed  by  his  father. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  back  again,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 
"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Weller  ?  " 

"Wery  hearty,  thankee,  sir,"  replied  the  widower;  "hope 
I  see  you  well,  sir." 

"  Quite,  I  thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"I  wanted  to  have  a  little  bit  o1  conwersation  with  you, 
sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "if  you  could  spare  me  five  minits  or 
so,  sir." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  Sam,  give  your  father 
a  chair." 

"  Thankee,  Samivel,  I've  got  a  cheer  here,"  said  Mr.  Weller, 
bringing  one  forward  as  he  spoke ;  "  uncommon  fine  day  ifs 


456  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

been,  sir,"  added  the  old  gentleman,  laying  his  hat  on  the 
floor  as  he  sat  himself  down. 

"Remarkably  so  indeed,11  replied  Mr.  Pickwick.  "Very 
seasonable.11 

"  Seasonablest  veather  I  ever  see,  sir,11  rejoined  Mr.  Weller. 
Here,  the  old  gentleman  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit  of 
coughing,  which,  being  terminated,  he  nodded  his  head  and 
winked  and  made  several  supplicatory  and  threatening  gestures 
to  his  son,  all  of  which  Sam  Weller  steadily  abstained  from 
seeing. 

Mr.  Pickwick,  perceiving  that  there  was  some  embarrassment 
on  the  old  gentleman's  part,  affected  to  be  engaged  in  cutting 
the  leaves  of  a  book  that  lay  beside  him,  and  waited  patiently 
until  Mr.  Weller  should  arrive  at  the  object  of  his  visit. 

"I  never  see  sich  a  aggerawatin1  boy  as  you  are,  Samivel,11 
said  Mr.  Weller,  looking  indignantly  at  his  son;  "never  in 
all  my  born  days." 

"What  is  he  doing,  Mr.  Weller?11  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  He  von't  begin,  sir,11  rejoined  Mr.  Weller ;  "  he  knows  I 
ain't  ekal  to  ex-pressin1  myself  ven  there's  anythin1  partickler 
to  be  done,  and  yet  hell  stand  and  see  me  a  settin1  here 
takin1  up  your  walable  time,  and  makin1  a  reglar  spectacle  o1 
myself,  rayther  than  help  me  out  vith  a  syllable.  It  ain't 
filial  conduct,  Samivel,11  said  Mr.  Weller,  wiping  his  forehead ; 
"  wery  far  from  it.11 

"  You  said  you'd  speak,11  replied  Sam ;  "  how  should  I  know 
you  wos  done  up  at  the  wery  beginnin1?11 

"You  might  ha1  seen  I  warn't  able  to  start,11  rejoined  his 
father ;  "  I'm  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  road,  and  backin1  into 
the  palins,  and  all  manner  of  unpleasantness,  and  yet  you 
von't  put  out  a  hand  to  help  me.  Fm  ashamed  on  you, 
Samivel.11 

"The  fact  is,  sir,11  said  Sam,  with  a  slight  bow,  "the 
gofer's  been  a  drawin1  his  money.1' 

"  Wery  good,  Samivel,  wery  good,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  nodding 
his  head  with  a  satisfied  air,  "  I  didn't  mean  to  speak  harsh 


MR.   TONY  WELLER'S  PROPERTY.          457 

to  you,  Sammy.  Wery  good.  That's  the  vay  to  begin. 
Come  to  the  pint  at  once.  Wery  good  indeed,  Samivel." 

Mr.  Weller  nodded  his  head  an  extraordinary  number 
of  times,  in  the  excess  of  his  gratification,  and  waited  in  a 
listening  attitude  for  Sam  to  resume  his  statement. 

"  You  may  sit  down,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  apprehending 
that  the  interview  was  likely  to  prove  rather  longer  than  he 
had  expected. 

Sam  bowed  again  and  sat  down ;  his  father  looking  round, 
he  continued, 

"The  gov'ner,  sir,  has  drawn  out  five  hundred  and  thirty 
pound." 

"Reduced  counsels,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller,  senior,  in  an 
undertone. 

"  It  don't  much  matter  vether  it's  reduced  counsels,  or  wot 
not,"  said  Sam;  "five  hundred  and  thirty  pound  is  the  sum, 
ain't  it?" 

"  All  right,  Samivel,"  replied  Mr.  Weller. 

"  To  vich  sum,  he  has  added  for  the  house  and  bisness — " 

"  Lease,  good-vill,  stock,  and  fixters,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller. 

— "As  much  as  makes  it,"  continued  Sam,  "altogether, 
eleven  hundred  and  eighty  pound." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it. 
I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Weller,  on  having  done  so  well." 

"Vait  a  minit,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  raising  his  hand  in  a 
deprecatory  manner.  "  Get  on,  Samivel." 

"This  here  money,"  said  Sam,  with  a  little  hesitation, 
"he's  anxious  to  put  someveres,  vere  he  knows  it'll  be  safe, 
and  I'm  wery  anxious  too,  for  if  he  keeps  it,  he'll  go  a  lendin' 
it  to  somebody,  or  inwestin'  property  in  horses,  or  droppin' 
his  pocket-book  down  a  airy,  or  makin'  a  Egyptian  mummy 
of  his-self  in  some  vay  or  another." 

"Wery  good,  Samivel,"  observed  Mr.  Weller,  in  as  com- 
placent a  manner  as  if  Sam  had  been  passing  the  highest 
eulogiums  on  his  prudence  and  foresight.  "Wery  good." 

"For  vich  reasons,"  continued  Sam,  plucking  nervously  at 


458  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

the  brim  of  his  hat;  "for  vich  reasons,  he's  drawd  it  out 
to-day,  and  come  here  vith  me  to  say,  leastvays  to  offer,  or 
in  other  vords  to — " 

"  — To  say  this  here,""  said  the  elder  Mr.  Weller,  impatiently, 
"  that  it  ain't  o'  no  use  to  me.  I'm  a  goin'  to  vork  a  coach 
reg'lar,  and  ha'nt  got  noveres  to  keep  it  in,  unless  I  vos  to 
pay  the  guard  for  takin'  care  on  it,  or  to  put  it  in  vun  o' 
the  coach  pockets,  vich  'ud  be  a  temptation  to  the  insides. 
If  you'll  take  care  on  it  for  me,  sir,  I  shall  be  wery  much 
obliged  to  you.  P'raps,""  said  Mr.  Weller,  walking  up  to 
Mr.  Pickwick  and  whispering  in  his  ear,  "p'raps  it'll  go  a 
little  vay  towards  the  expenses  o'  that  'ere  conwiction.  All 
I  say  is,  just  you  keep  it  till  I  ask  you  for  it  again."  With 
these  words,  Mr.  Weller  placed  the  pocket-book  in  Mr. 
Pickwick's  hands,  caught  up  his  hat,  and  ran  out  of  the  room 
with  a  celerity  scarcely  to  be  expected  from  so  corpulent  a 
subject. 

"Stop  him,  Sam!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pickwick,  earnestly. 
"Overtake  him;  bring  him  back  instantly!  Mr.  Weller — 
here — come  back  ! " 

Sam  saw  that  his  master's  injunctions  were  not  to  be 
disobeyed ;  and  catching  his  father  by  the  arm  as  he  was 
descending  the  stairs,  dragged  him  back  by  main  force. 

"My  good  friend,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  taking  the  old  man 
by  the  hand;  "your  honest  confidence  overpowers  me." 

"  I  don't  see  no  occasion  for  nothin'  o'  the  kind,  sir,"  replied 
Mr.  Weller,  obstinately. 

"I  assure  you,  my  good  friend,  I  have  more  money  than  I 
can  ever  need ;  far  more  than  a  man  at  my  age  can  ever  live 
to  spend,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  No  man  knows  how  much  he  can  spend,  till  he  tries," 
observed  Mr.  Weller. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick ;  "  but  as  I  have 
no  intention  of  trying  any  such  experiments,  I  am  not 
likely  to  come  to  want.  I  must  beg  you  to  take  this  back, 
Mr.  Weller." 


AN   AWFUL  THREAT.  459 

"Wery  well,"  said  Mr.  Weller  with  a  discontented  look. 
"  Mark  my  vords,  Sammy.  Til  do  somethin'  desperate  vith 
this  here  property ;  somethin'  desperate ! " 

"  You'd  better  not,"  replied  Sam. 

Mr.  Weller  reflected  for  a  short  time,  and  then,  buttoning 
up  his  coat  with  great  determination,  said  : 

"Til  keep  a  pike." 

"  Wot ! "  exclaimed  Sam. 

"A  pike,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller,  through  his  set  teeth; 
"I'll  keep  a  pike.  Say  good  bye  to  your  father,  Samivel. 
I  dewote  the  remainder  o'  my  days  to  a  pike." 

This  threat  was  such  an  awful  one,  and  Mr.  Weller  besides 
appearing  fully  resolved  to  carry  it  into  execution,  seemed 
so  deeply  mortified  by  Mr.  Pickwick's  refusal,  that  that 
gentleman,  after  a  short  reflection,  said : 

"Well,  well,  Mr.  Weller,  I  will  keep  the  money.  I  can 
do  more  good  with  it,  perhaps,  than  you  can." 

"Just  the  wery  thing,  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Weller, 
brightening  up ;  "  o'  course  you  can,  sir." 

"Say  no  more  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  locking  the 
pocket-book  in  his  desk ;  "  I  am  heartily  obliged  to  you,  my 
good  friend.  Now  sit  down  again.  I  want  to  ask  your 
advice." 

The  internal  laughter  occasioned  by  the  triumphant  success 
of  his  visit,  which  had  convulsed  not  only  Mr.  Weller's  face, 
but  his  arms,  legs,  and  body  also,  during  the  locking  up  of 
the  pocket-book,  suddenly  gave  place  to  the  most  dignified 
gravity  as  he  heard  these  words. 

"  Wait  outside  a  few  minutes,  Sam,  will  you  ? "  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

Sam  immediately  withdrew. 

Mr.  Weller  looked  uncommonly  wise  and  very  much  amazed, 
when  Mr.  Pickwick  opened  the  discourse  by  saying : 

"You  are  not  an  advocate  for  matrimony,  I  think,  Mr. 
Weller?" 

Mr.  Weller  shook  his  head.    He  was  wholly  unable  to  speak ; 


460  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

vague  thoughts  of  some  wicked  widow  having  been  successful 
in  her  designs  on  Mr.  Pickwick,  choked  his  utterance. 

"Did  you  happen  to  see  a  young  girl  down  stairs  when 
you  came  in  just  now  with  your  son?"  inquired  Mr. 
Pickwick, 

"  Yes.     I  see  a  young  gal,""  replied  Mr.  Weller,  shortly. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  her,  now  ?  Candidly,  Mr.  Weller, 
what  did  you  think  of  her?" 

"  I  thought  she  wos  wery  plump,  and  veil  made,"  said  Mr. 
Weller,  with  a  critical  air. 

"  So  she  is,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "  so  she  is.  What  did  you 
think  of  her  manners,  from  what  you  saw  of  her  ? " 

"Wery  pleasant,"  rejoined  Mr.  Weller.  "Wery  pleasant 
and  conformable." 

The  precise  meaning  which  Mr.  Weller  attached  to  this 
last-mentioned  adjective,  did  not  appear;  but,  as  it  was 
evident  from  the  tone  in  which  he  used  it  that  it  was  a 
favourable  expression,  Mr.  Pickwick  was  as  well  satisfied  as 
if  he  had  been  thoroughly  enlightened  on  the  subject. 

"  I  take  a  great  interest  in  her,  Mr.  Weller,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

Mr.  Weller  coughed. 

"  I  mean  an  interest  in  her  doing  well,"  resumed  Mr.  Pick- 
wick ;  "  a  desire  that  she  may  be  comfortable  and  prosperous. 
You  understand  ?  " 

"Wery  clearly,"  replied  Mr.  Weller,  who  understood 
nothing  yet. 

"That  young  person,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "is  attached  to 
your  son." 

"  To  Samivel  Veller ! "  exclaimed  the  parent. 

"  Yes,"  said  Pickwick. 

"  It's  natural,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  after  some  consideration, 
"  nat'ral,  but  rayther  alarmin\  Sammy  must  be  careful." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"  Wery  careful  that  he  don't  say  nothin'  to  her,"  responded 
Mr.  Weller.  "Wery  careful  that  he  ain't  led  avay,  in  a 


MORE  ABOUT  SAM'S  REWARD.  461 

innocent  moment,  to  say  anythink  as  may  lead  to  a  con- 
wiction  for  breach.  You're  never  safe  vith  'em,  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, ven  they  vunce  has  designs  on  you ;  there's  no  knowin' 
vere  to  have  "em;  and  vile  you're  a-considering  of  it,  they 
have  you.  I  wos  married  fust,  that  vay  myself,  sir,  and 
Sammy  wos  the  consekens  o'  the  manoover." 

"You  give  me  no  great  encouragement  to  conclude  what 
I  have  to  say,"  observed  Mr.  Pickwick,  "but  I  had  better 
do  so  at  once.  This  young  person  is  not  only  attached  to 
your  son,  Mr.  Weller,  but  your  son  is  attached  to  her." 

"  Veil,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  "  this  here's  a  pretty  sort  o'  thing 
to  come  to  a  father's  ears,  this  is !  " 

"I  have  observed  them  on  several  occasions,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  making  no  comment  on  Mr.  Weller's  last  remark ; 
"and  entertain  no  doubt  at  all  about  it.  Supposing  I  were 
desirous  of  establishing  them  comfortably  as  man  and  wife  in 
some  little  business  or  situation,  where  they  might  hope  to 
obtain  a  decent  living,  what  should  you  think  of  it,  Mr. 
Weller?" 

At  first,  Mr.  Weller  received,  with  wry  faces,  a  proposition 
involving  the  marriage  of  anybody  in  whom  he  took  an 
interest;  but,  as  Mr.  Pickwick  argued  the  point  with  him, 
and  laid  great  stress  on  the  fact  that  Mary  was  not  a  widow, 
he  gradually  became  more  tractable.  Mr.  Pickwick  had  great 
influence  over  him,  and  he  had  been  much  struck  with  Mary's 
appearance;  having,  in  fact,  bestowed  several  very  unfatherly 
winks  upon  her,  already.  At  length  he  said  that  it  was  not 
for  him  to  oppose  Mr.  Pickwick's  inclination,  and  that  he 
would  be  very  happy  to  yield  to  his  advice ;  upon  which,  Mr. 
Pickwick  joyfully  took  him  at  his  word,  and  called  Sam  back 
into  the  room. 

"Sam,"    said    Mr.    Pickwick,    clearing    his    throat,   "your 
father  and  I  have  been  having  some  conversation  about  you." 
"About  you,  Samivel,"  said  Mr.  Weller,  in  a  patronising 
and  impressive  voice. 

"  I  am  not  so  blind,  Sam,  as  not  to  have  seen,  a  long  time 


462  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

since,  that  you   entertain   something   more   than   a  friendly 
feeling  towards  Mrs.  Winkled  maid,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"You  hear  this,  Samivel?"  said  Mr.  Weller  in  the  same 
judicial  form  of  speech  as  before. 

"  I  hope,  sir,"  said  Sam,  addressing  his  master :  "  I  hope 
there's  no  harm  in  a  young  man  takin1  notice  of  a  young 
'ooman  as  is  undeniably  good-looking  and  well-conducted." 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"Not  by  no  means,"  acquiesced  Mr.  Weller,  affably  but 
magisterially 

"  So  far  from  thinking  there  is  anything  wrong,  in  conduct 
so  natural,"  resumed  Mr.  Pickwick,  "it  is  my  wish  to  assist 
and  promote  your  wishes  in  this  respect.  With  this  view,  I 
have  had  a  little  conversation  with  your  father;  and  finding 
that  he  is  of  my  opinion " 

"The  lady  not  bein'  a  widder,"  interposed  Mr.  Weller  in 
explanation. 

"  The  lady  not  being  a  widow,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  smiling. 
"I  wish  to  free  you  from  the  restraint  which  your  present 
position  imposes  upon  you,  and  to  mark  my  sense  of  your 
fidelity  and  many  excellent  qualities,  by  enabling  you  to 
marry  this  girl  at  once,  and  to  earn  an  independent  livelihood 
for  yourself  and  family.  I  shall  be  proud,  Sam,"  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  whose  voice  had  faltered  a  little  hitherto,  but  now 
resumed  its  customary  tone,  "  proud  and  happy  to  make  your 
future  prospects  in  life,  my  grateful  and  peculiar  care." 

There  was  a  profound  silence  for  a  short  time,  and  then 
Sam  said,  in  a  low  husky  sort  of  voice,  but  firmly  withal : 

"I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  goodness,  sir,  as 
is  only  like  yourself;  but  it  can't  be  done." 

"  Can't  be  done  ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Pickwick  in  astonishment. 

"  Samivel ! "  said  Mr.  Weller,  with  dignity. 

"I  say  it  can't  be  done,"  repeated  Sam  in  a  louder  key. 
"  Wot's  to  become  of  you,  sir  ?  " 

"My  good  fellow,"  replied  Mr.  Pickwick,  "the  recent 
changes  among  my  friends  will  alter  my  mode  of  life  in 


MR.  SAMUEL  WELLER'S  DETERMINATION.     463 

future,    entirely;    besides,    I    am    growing    older,    and   want 
repose  and  quiet.     My  rambles,  Sam,  are  over." 

"  How  do  I  know  that  'ere,  sir  ?  "  argued  Sam.  "  You  think 
so  now !  S'pose  you  wos  to  change  your  mind,  vich  is  not 
unlikely,  for  you've  the  spirit  o'  five-and-tventy  in  you  still, 
what  'ud  become  on  you  vithout  me  ?  It  can't  be  done,  sir, 
it  can't  be  done." 

"Wery  good,  Samivel,  there's  a  good  deal  in  that,"  said 
Mr.  Weller,  encouragingly. 

"I  speak  after  long  deliberation,  Sam,  and  with  the 
certainty  that  I  shall  keep  my  word,"  said  Mr.  Pickwkk, 
shaking  his  head.  "New  scenes  have  closed  upon  me;  my 
rambles  are  at  an  end." 

"Wery  good,"  rejoined  Sam.  "Then,  that's  the  wery  best 
reason  wy  you  should  alvays  have  somebody  by  you  as 
understands  you,  to  keep  you  up  and  make  you  comfortable. 
If  you  vant  a  more  polished  sort  o'  feller,  veil  and  good,  have 
him ;  but  vages  or  no  vages,  notice  or  no  notice,  board  or 
no  board,  lodgin'  or  no  lodgin',  Sam  Veller,  as  you  took  from 
the  old  inn  in  the  Borough,  sticks  by  you,  come  what  come 
may;  and  let  ev'rythin'  and  ev'rybody  do  their  wery  fiercest, 
nothin'  shall  ever  perwent  it ! " 

At  the  close  of  this  declaration,  which  Sam  made  with 
great  emotion,  the  elder  Mr.  Weller  rose  from  his  chair,  and, 
forgetting  all  considerations  of  time,  place,  or  propriety,  waved 
his  hat  above  his  head,  and  gave  three  vehement  cheers. 

"My  good  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  when  Mr.  Weller 
had  sat  down  again,  rather  abashed  at  his  own  enthusiasm, 
"you  are  bound  to  consider  the  young  woman  also, 

"I  do  consider  the  young  'ooman,  sir,"  said  Sam.  "I 
have  considered  the  young  'ooman.  I've  spoke  to  her.  I've 
told  her  how  I'm  sitivated ;  she's  ready  to  vait  till  I'm  ready, 
and  I  believe  she  vill.  If  she  don't,  she's  not  the  young 
'ooman  I  take  her  for,  and  I  give  her  up  vith  readiness. 
You've  know'd  me  afore,  sir.  My  mind's  made  up,  and 
nothin'  can  ever  alter  it." 


464  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Who  could  combat  this  resolution?  Not  Mr.  Pickwick. 
He  derived,  at  that  moment,  more  pride  and  luxury  of  feeling 
from  the  disinterested  attachment  of  his  humble  friends,  than 
ten  thousand  protestations  from  the  greatest  men  living  could 
have  awakened  in  his  heart. 

While  this  conversation  was  passing  in  Mr.  Pickwick's  room, 
a  little  old  gentleman  in  a  suit  of  snuff-coloured  clothes,  fol- 
lowed by  a  porter  carrying  a  small  portmanteau,  presented 
himself  below;  and  after  securing  a  bed  for  the  night,  in- 
quired of  the  waiter  whether  one  Mrs.  Winkle  was  staying 
there,  to  which  question  the  \vaiter,  of  course,  responded  in 
the  affirmative. 

"  Is  she  alone  ?  "  inquired  the  little  old  gentleman. 

"  I  believe  she  is,  sir,""  replied  the  waiter ;  "  I  can  call  her 
own  maid,  sir,  if  you " 

"  No,  I  don't  want  her,"  said  the  old  gentleman  quickly. 
"Show  me  to  her  room  without  announcing  me." 

"Eh,  sir?"  said  the  waiter. 

"Are  you  deaf?"  inquired  the  Jittle  old  gentleman. 

"No,  sir." 

"  Then  listen,  if  you  please.     Can  you  hear  me  now  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"That's  well.  Show  me  to  Mrs.  Winkle's  room,  without 
announcing  me." 

As  the  little  old  gentleman  uttered  this  command,  he 
slipped  five  shillings  into  the  waiter's  hand,  and  looked 
steadily  at  him. 

"Really,  sir,"  said  the  waiter,  "I  don't  know,  sir. 
whether " 

"Ah!  you'll  do  it,  I  see,"  said  the  little  old  gentleman. 
"  You  had  better  do  it  at  once.  It  will  save  time." 

There  was  something  so  very  cool  and  collected  in  the 
gentleman's  manner,  that  the  waiter  put  the  five  shillings  in 
his  pocket,  and  led  him  up  stairs  without  another  word. 

"This  is  the  room,  is  it?"  said  the  gentleman.  "You 
may  go." 


MRS.  WINKLE,   I   BELIEVE?  465 

The  waiter  complied,  wondering  much  who  the  gentleman 
could  be,  and  what  he  wanted;  the  little  old  gentleman 
waiting  till  he  was  out  of  sight,  tapped  at  the  door. 

"Come  in,"11  said  Arabella. 

"Urn,  a  pretty  voice  at  any  rate,"  murmured  the  little 
old  gentleman ;  "  but  that's  nothing.""  As  he  said  this,  he 
opened  the  door  and  walked  in.  Arabella,  who  was  sitting 
at  work,  rose  on  beholding  a  stranger — a  little  confused — 
but  by  no  means  ungracefully  so. 

"Pray  don't  rise,  ma'am,""  said  the  unknown,  walking 
in,  and  closing  the  door  after  him.  "Mrs.  Winkle,  I 
believe?1' 

Arabella  inclined  her  head. 

"Mrs.  Nathaniel  Winkle,  who  married  the  son  of  the  old 
man  at  Birmingham  ? "  said  the  stranger,  eyeing  Arabella 
with  visible  curiosity. 

Again,  Arabella  inclined  her  head,  and  looked  uneasily 
round,  as  if  uncertain  whether  to  call  for  assistance. 

"  I  surprise  you,  I  see,  ma'am,""  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"Rather,  I  confess,"  replied  Arabella,  wondering  more  and 
more. 

"I'll  take  a  chair,  if  you'll  allow  me,  ma'am,"  said  the 
stranger. 

He  took  one;  and  drawing  a  spectacle-case  from  his 
pocket,  leisurely  pulled  out  a  pair  of  spectacles,  which  he 
adjusted  on  his  nose. 

"  You  don't  know  me,  ma'am  ?  "  he  said,  looking  so  intently 
at  Arabella  that  she  began  to  feel  alarmed. 

"No,  sir,"  she  replied  timidly. 

"  No,"  said  the  gentleman,  nursing  his  left  leg ;  "  I  don't 
know  how  you  should.  You  know  my  name,  though,  ma'am." 

"Do  I?"  said  Arabella,  trembling,  though  she  scarcely 
knew  why.  "  May  I  ask  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  Presently,  ma'am,  presently,"  said  the  stranger,  not  having 
yet  removed  his  eyes  from  her  countenance.  "You  have 
jbeen  recently  married,  ma'am  ?  " 


466  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

"  I  have,""  replied  Arabella,  in  a  scarcely  audible  tone, 
laying  aside  her  work,  and  becoming  greatly  agitated  as  a 
thought,  that  had  occurred  to  her  before,  struck  more  forcibly 
upon  her  mind. 

"  Without  having  represented  to  your  husband  the  propriety 
of  first  consulting  his  father,  on  whom  he  is  dependent,  I 
think  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

Arabella  applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"Without  an  endeavour,  even,  to  ascertain,  by  some 
indirect  appeal,  what  were  the  old  man's  sentiments  on  a 
point  in  which  he  would  naturally  feel  much  interested  ? " 
said  the  stranger. 

"  I  cannot  deny  it,  sir,1'  said  Arabella. 

"  And  without  having  sufficient  property  of  your  own  to 
afford  your  husband  any  permanent  assistance  in  exchange 
for  the  worldly  advantages  which  you  knew  he  would  have 
gained  if  he  had  married  agreeably  to  his  father's  wishes?1' 
said  the  old  gentleman.  "This  is  what  boys  and  girls  call 
disinterested  affection,  till  they  have  boys  and  girls  of  their 
own,  and  then  they  see  it  in  a  rougher  and  very  different 
light!" 

Arabella's  tears  flowed  fast,  as  she  pleaded  in  extenuation 
that  she  was  young  and  inexperienced ;  that  her  attachment 
had  alone  induced  her  to  take  the  step  to  which  she  had 
resorted ;  and  that  she  had  been  deprived  of  the  counsel  and 
guidance  of  her  parents  almost  from  infancy. 

"It  was  wrong,"  said  the  old  gentleman  in  a  milder  tone, 
"  very  wrong.  It  was  foolish,  romantic,  unbusiness-like." 

"  It  was  my  fault ;  all  my  fault,  sir,"  replied  poor  Arabella, 
weeping. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  old  gentleman ;  "  it  was  not  your 
fault  that  he  fell  in  love  with  you,  I  suppose?  Yes  it  was 
though,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  looking  rather  slyly  at 
Arabella.  "It  was  your  fault.  He  couldn't  help  it." 

This  little  compliment,  or  the  little  gentleman's  odd  way 
of  paying  it,  or  his  altered  manner — so  much  kinder  than  it 


FATHER  AND  SON.  467 

was,   at  first — or   all   three   together,    forced    a    smile    from 
Arabella  in  the  midst  of  her  tears. 

"Where's  your  husband?11  inquired  the  old  gentleman, 
abruptly ;  stopping  a  smile  which  was  just  coming  over  his 
own  face. 

"  I   expect    him    every    instant,    sir,""    said    Arabella.      "  I 
persuaded   him,   to  take  a  walk  this  morning.     He  is  very 
low  and  wretched  at  not  having  heard  from  his  father.11 
"  Low,  is  he  ?  "  said  the  old  gentleman.    "  Serve  him  right !  * 
"  He  feels  it  on  my  account,  I  am  afraid,11  said  Arabella ; 
"and  indeed,  sir,  I  feel  it  deeply  on  his.     I  have  been  the 
sole  means  of  bringing  him  to  his  present  condition.11 

"Don't  mind  it  on  his  account,  my  dear,11  said  the  old 
gentleman.  "  It  serves  him  right.  I  am  glad  of  it — actually 
glad  of  it,  as  far  as  he  is  concerned." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  the  old  gentleman's  lips, 
when  footsteps  were  heard  ascending  the  stairs,  which  he 
and  Arabella  seemed  both  to  recognise  at  the  same  moment. 
The  little  gentleman  turned  pale,  and  making  a  strong 
effort  to  appear  composed,  stood  up,  as  Mr.  Winkle  entered 
the  room. 

"  Father ! "  cried  Mr.  Winkle,  recoiling  in  amazement. 
"Yes,  sir,11  replied  the  little  old  gentleman.     "Well,  sir, 
what  have  you  got  to  say  to  me  ? " 
Mr.  Winkle  remained  silent. 

"You  are  ashamed  of  yourself,  I  hope,  sir?"  said  the  old 
gentleman. 

Still  Mr.  Winkle  said  nothing. 

"Are  you  ashamed  of  yourself,  sir,  or  are  you  not?" 
inquired  the  old  gentleman. 

"No,  sir,11  replied  Mr.  Winkle,  drawing  Arabella's  arm 
through  his.  "  I  am  not  ashamed  of  myself,  or  of  my  wife 
either.11 

"  Upon  my  word  ! "  cried  the  old  gentleman,  ironically. 
"  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  done  anything  which  has  lessened 
your  affection  for  me,  sir,11  said  Mr.   Winkle;    "but  I  will 


468  THE   PICKWICK  CLUB. 

say,  at  the  same  time,  that  I  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed 
of  having  this  lady  for  my  wife,  nor  you  of  having  her  for  a 
daughter."" 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Nat,11  said  the  old  gentleman  in 
an  altered  voice.  "Kiss  me,  my  love.  You  are  a  very 
charming  little  daughter-in-law  after  all ! " 

In  a  few  minutes1  time  Mr.  Winkle  went  in  search  of  Mr. 
Pickwick,  and  returning  with  that  gentleman,  presented  him 
to  his  father,  whereupon  they  shook  hands  for  five  minutes 
incessantly. 

"Mr.  Pickwick,  I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  all  your 
kindness  to  my  son,11  said  old  Mr.  Winkle,  in  a  bluff  straight- 
forward way.  "I  am  a  hasty  fellow,  and  when  I  saw  you 
last,  I  was  vexed  and  taken  by  surprise.  I  have  judged  for 
myself  now,  and  am  more  than  satisfied.  Shall  I  make  any 
more  apologies,  Mr.  Pickwick  ? " 

"  Not  one,11  replied  that  gentleman.  "  You  have  done  the 
only  thing  wanting  to  complete  my  happiness.11 

Hereupon,  there  was  another  shaking  of  hands  for  five 
minutes  longer,  accompanied  by  a  great  number  of  compli- 
mentary speeches,  which,  besides  being  complimentary,  had 
the  additional  and  very  novel  recommendation  of  being  sincere. 

Sam  had  dutifully  seen  his  father  to  the  Bell  Sauvage, 
when,  on  returning,  he  encountered  the  fat  boy  in  the  court, 
who  had  been  charged  with  the  delivery  of  a  note  from  Emily 
Wardle. 

"I  say,"  said  Joe,  who  was  unusually  loquacious,  "what  a 
pretty  girl  Mary  is,  isn't  she  ?  I  am  so  fond  of  her,  I  am  ! " 

Mr.  Weller  made  no  verbal  remark  in  reply ;  but  eyeing 
the  fat  boy  for  a  moment,  quite  transfixed  at  his  presumption, 
led  him  by  the  collar  to  the  corner,  and  dismissed  him  with 
a  harmless  but  ceremonious  kick.  After  which,  he  walked 
home,  whistling. 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

IX     WHICH     THE     PICKWICK     CLUB     IS     FINALLY     DISSOLVED,     AND 
EVERYTHING   CONCLUDED   TO   THE   SATISFACTION    OF   EVERYBODY. 

FOR  a  whole  week  after  the  happy  arrival  of  Mr.  Winkle  from 
Birmingham,  Mr.  Pickwick  and  Sam  Weller  were  from  home 
all  day  long,  only  returning  just  in  time  for  dinner,  and  then 
wearing  an  air  of  mystery  and  importance  quite  foreign  to 
their  natures.  It  was  evident  that  very  grave  and  eventful 
proceedings  were  on  foot;  but  various  surmises  were  afloat, 
respecting  their  precise  character.  Some  (among  whom  was 
Mr.  Tupman)  were  disposed  to  think  that  Mr.  Pickwick 
contemplated  a  matrimonial  alliance ;  but  this  idea  the  ladies 
most  strenuously  repudiated.  Others,  rather  inclined  to  the 
belief  that  he  had  projected  some  distant  tour,  and  was  at 
present  occupied  in  effecting  the  preliminary  arrangements; 
but  this  again  was  stoutly  denied  by  Sam  himself,  who  had 
unequivocally  stated  when  cross-examined  by  Mary  that  no 
new  journeys  were  to  be  undertaken.  At  length,  when  the 
brains  of  the  whole  party  had  been  racked  for  six  long  days, 
by  unavailing  speculation,  it  was  unanimously  resolved  that 
Mr.  Pickwick  should  be  called  upon  to  explain  his  conduct, 
and  to  state  distinctly  why  he  had  thus  absented  himself 
from  the  society  of  his  admiring  friends. 

With   this   view,   Mr.    Wardle   invited   the    full    circle  to 


470  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

dinner  at  the  Adelphi ;  and,  the  decanters  having  been  twice 
sent  round,  opened  the  business. 

"We  are  all  anxious  to  know,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"what  we  have  done  to  offend  you,  and  to  induce  you  to 
desert  us  and  devote  yourself  to  these  solitary  walks. " 

"Are  you?"  said  Mr.  Pickwick.  "It  is  singular  enough 
that  I  had  intended  to  volunteer  a  full  explanation  this  very 
day;  so,  if  you  will  give  me  another  glass  of  wine,  I  will 
satisfy  your  curiosity."" 

The  decanters  passed  from  hand  to  hand  with  unwonted 
briskness,  and  Mr.  Pickwick  looking  round  on  the  faces  of 
his  friends,  with  a  cheerful  smile,  proceeded : 

"All  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  among  us,"  said 
Mr.  Pickwick,  "I  mean  the  marriage  that  has  taken  place, 
and  the  marriage  that  will  take  place,  with  the  changes  they 
involve,  rendered  it  necessary  for  me  to  think,  soberly  and  at 
once,  upon  my  future  plans.  I  determined  on  retiring  to  some 
quiet  pretty  neighbourhood  in  the  vicinity  of  London ;  I 
saw  a  house  which  exactly  suited  my  fancy;  I  have  taken 
it  and  furnished  it.  It  is  fully  prepared  for  my  reception, 
and  I  intend  entering  upon  it  at  once,  trusting  that  I  may 
yet  live  to  spend  many  quiet  years  in  peaceful  retirement, 
cheered  through  life  by  the  society  of  my  friends,  and 
followed  in  death  by  their  affectionate  remembrance." 

Here  Mr.  Pickwick  paused,  and  a  low  murmur  ran  round 
the  table. 

"The  house  I  have  taken,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "is  at 
Dulwich.  It  has  a  large  garden,  and  is  situated  in  one  of 
the  most  pleasant  spots  near  London.  It  has  been  fitted 
up  with  every  attention  to  substantial  comfort;  perhaps  to 
a  little  elegance  besides;  but  of  that  you  shall  judge  for 
yourselves.  Sam  accompanies  me  there.  I  have  engaged, 
on  Perker's  representation,  a  housekeeper — a  very  old  one — 
and  such  other  servants  as  she  thinks  I  shall  require.  I 
propose  to  consecrate  this  little  retreat,  by  having  a  ceremony 
in  which  I  take  a  great  interest,  performed  there.  I  wish, 


SETTLING  DOWN.  471 

if  my  friend  Wardle  entertains  no  objection,  that  his  daughter 
should  be  married  from  my  new  house,  on  the  day  I  take 
possession  of  it.  The  happiness  of  young  people,""  said  Mr. 
Pickwick,  a  little  moved,  "  has  ever  been  the  chief  pleasure 
of  my  life.  It  will  warm  my  heart  to  witness  the  happiness 
of  those  friends  who  are  dearest  to  me,  beneath  my  own  roof." 

Mr.  Pickwick  paused  again :  Emily  and  Arabella  sobbed 
audibly 

"I  have  communicated,  both  personally  and  by  letter, 
with  the  club,"  resumed  Mr.  Pickwick,  "acquainting  them 
with  my  intention.  During  our  long  absence,  it  had  suffered 
much  from  internal  dissensions ;  and  the  withdrawal  of  my 
name,  coupled  with  this  and  other  circumstances,  has  occa- 
sioned its  dissolution.  The  Pickwick  Club  exists  no  longer. 

"I  shall  never  regret,1"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  in  a  low  voice, 
"  I  shall  never  regret  having  devoted  the  greater  part  of  two 
years  to  mixing  with  different  varieties  and  shades  of  human 
character:  frivolous  as  my  pursuit  of  novelty  may  'have 
appeared  to  many.  Nearly  the  whole  of  my  previous  life 
having  been  devoted  to  business  and  the  pursuit  of  wealth, 
numerous  scenes  of  which  I  had  no  previous  conception  have 
dawned  upon  me — I  hope  to  the  enlargement  of  my  mind, 
and  the  improvement  of  my  understanding.  If  I  have  done 
but  little  good,  I  trust  I  have  done  less  harm,  and  that  none 
of  my  adventures  will  be  other  than  a  source  of  amusing  and 
pleasant  recollection  to  me  in  the  decline  of  life.  God  bless 
you  all ! " 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Pickwick  filled  and  drained  a 
bumper  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  his  eyes  moistened  as  his 
friends  rose  with  one  accord,  and  pledged  him  from  their 
hearts. 

There  were  very  few  preparatory  arrangements  to  be  made 
for  the  marriage  of  Mr.  Snodgrass.  As  he  had  neither  father 
nor  mother,  and  had  been  in  his  minority  a  ward  of  Mr. 
Pickwick's,  that  gentleman  was  perfectly  well  acquainted  with 
his  possessions  and  prospects.  His  account  of  both  was  quite 


472  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

satisfactory  to  Wardle — as  almost  any  other  account  would 
have  been,  for  the  good  old  gentleman  was  overflowing  with 
hilarity  and  kindness — and  a  handsome  portion  having  been 
bestowed  upon  Emily,  the  marriage  was  fixed  to  take  place 
on  the  fourth  day  from  that  time :  the  suddenness  of  which 
preparations  reduced  three  dress-nlakers  and  a  tailor  to  the 
extreme  verge  of  insanity. 

Getting  post-horses  to  the  carriage,  old  Wardle  started 
off,  next  day,  to  bring  his  mother  up  to  town.  Communi- 
cating his  intelligence  to  the  old  lady  with  characteristic 
impetuosity,  she  instantly  fainted  away;  but  being  promptly 
revived,  ordered  the  brocaded  silk  gown  to  be  packed  up 
forthwith,  and  proceeded  to  relate  some  circumstances  of  a 
similar  nature  attending  the  marriage  of  the  eldest  daughter 
of  Lady  Tollimglower,  deceased,  which  occupied  three  hours 
in  the  recital,  and  were  not  half  finished  at  last. 

Mrs.  Trundle  had  to  be  informed  of  all  the  mighty 
preparations  that  were  making  in  London,  and  being  in  a 
delicate  state  of  health  was  informed  thereof  through  Mr. 
Trundle,  lest  the  news  should  be  too  much  for  her;  but  it 
was  not  too  much  for  her,  inasmuch  as  she  at  once  wrote 
off  to  Muggleton,  to  order  a  new  cap  and  a  black  satin 
gown,  and  moreover  avowed  her  determination  of  being 
present  at  the  ceremony.  Hereupon,  Mr.  Trundle  called  in 
the  doctor,  and  the  doctor  said  Mrs.  Trundle  ought  to  know 
best  how  she  felt  herself,  to  which  Mrs.  Trundle  replied  that 
she  felt  herself  quite  equal  to  it,  and  that  she  had  made  up 
her  mind  to  go ;  upon  which  the  doctor,  who  was  a  wise 
and  discreet  doctor,  and  knew  what  was  good  for  himself  as 
well  as  for  other  people,  said  that  perhaps  if  Mrs.  Trundle 
stopped  at  home  she  might  hurt  herself  more  by  fretting, 
than  by  going,  so  perhaps  she  had  better  go.  And  she  did 
go ;  the"  doctor  with  great  attention  sending  in  half  a  dozen 
of  medicine,  to  be  drunk  upon  the  road. 

In  addition  to  these  points  of  distraction,  Wardle  was 
intrusted  with  two  small  letters  to  two  small  young  ladies 


SETTLED  DOWN.  473 

who  were  to  act  as  bridesmaids ;  upon  the  receipt  of  which, 
the  two  young  ladies  were  driven  to  despair  by  having  no 
"things'"  ready  for  so  important  an  occasion,  and  no  time 
to  make  them  in — a  circumstance  which  appeared  to  afford 
the  two  worthy  papas  of  the  two  small  young  ladies  rather 
a  feeling  of  satisfaction  than  otherwise.  However,  old  frocks 
were  trimmed,  and  new  bonnets  made,  and  the  young  ladies 
looked  as  well  as  could  possibly  have  been  expected  of  them. 
And  as  they  cried  at  the  subsequent  ceremony  in  the  proper 
places,  and  trembled  at  the  right  times,  they  acquitted  them- 
selves to  the  admiration  of  all  beholders. 

How  the  two  poor  relations  ever  reached  London — whether 
they  walked,  or  got  behind  coaches,  or  procured  lifts  in 
wagons,  or  carried  each  other  by  turns — is  uncertain;  but 
there  they  were,  before  Wardle;  and  the  very  first  people 
that  knocked  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Pickwick's  house,  on  the 
bridal  morning  were  the  two  poor  relations,  all  smiles  and 
shirt  collar. 

They  were  welcomed  heartily  though,  for  riches  or  poverty 
had  no  influence  on  Mr.  Pickwick ;  the  new  servants  were 
all  alacrity  and  readiness ;  Sam  was  in  a  most  unrivalled 
state  of  high  spirits  and  excitement ;  Mary  was  glowing  with 
beauty  and  smart  ribands. 

The  bridegroom,  who  had  been  staying  at  the  house  for 
two  or  three  days  previous,  sallied  forth  gallantly  to  Dulwich 
Church  to  meet  the  bride,  attended  by  Mr.  Pickwick,  Ben 
Allen,  Bob  Sawyer,  and  Mr.  Tupman;  with  Sam  Weller 
outside,  having  at  his  button-hole  a  white  favour,  the  gift 
of  his  lady  love,  and  clad  in  a  new  and  gorgeous  suit  of 
livery  invented  for  the  occasion.  They  were  met  by  the 
Wardles,  and  the  Winkles,  and  the  bride  and  bridesmaids, 
and  the  Trundles ;  and  the  ceremony  having  been  performed, 
the  coaches  rattled  back  to  Mr.  Pickwick's  to  breakfast, 
where  little  Mr.  Perker  already  awaited  them. 

Here,  all  the  light  clouds  of  the  more  solemn  part  of  the 
proceedings  passed  away ;  every  face  shone  forth  joyously ; 


474  THE    PICKWICK  CLUB. 

nothing  was  to  be  heard  but  congratulations  and  commenda- 
tions. Everything  was  so  beautiful !  The  lawn  in  front, 
the  garden  behind,  the  miniature  conservatory,  the  dining- 
room,  the  drawing-room,  the  bed-rooms,  the  smoking-room, 
and  above  all  the  study  with  its  pictures  and  easy  chairs, 
and  odd  cabinets,  and  queer  tables,  and  books  out  of  number, 
with  a  large  cheerful  window  opening  upon  a  pleasant  lawn 
and  commanding  a  pretty  landscape,  dotted  here  and  there 
with  little  houses  almost  hidden  by  the  trees ;  and  then  the 
curtains,  and  the  carpets,  and  the  chairs,  and  the  sofas ! 
Everything  was  so  beautiful,  so  compact,  so  neat,  and  in 
such  exquisite  taste,  said  everybody,  that  there  really  was 
no  deciding  what  to  admire  most. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  stood  Mr.  Pickwick,  his 
countenance  lighted  up  with  smiles,  which  the  heart  of  no 
man,  woman,  or  child,  could  resist:  himself  the  happiest  of 
the  group:  shaking  hands,  over  and  over  again  with  the 
same  people,  and  when  his  own  hands  were  not  so  employed, 
rubbing  them  with  pleasure  :  turning  round  in  a  different 
direction  at  every  fresh  expression  of  gratification  or  curiosity, 
and  inspiring  everybody  with  his  looks  of  gladness  and  delight. 

Breakfast  is  announced.  Mr.  Pickwick  leads  the  old  lady 
(who  has  been  very  eloquent  on  the  subject  of  Lady  Tollim- 
glower),  to  the  top  of  a  long  table ;  Wardle  takes  the  bottom  ; 
the  friends  arrange  themselves  on  either  side;  Sam  takes 
his  station  behind  his  master's  chair ;  the  laughter  and  talking 
cease ;  Mr.  Pickwick,  having  said  grace,  pauses  for  an  instant, 
and  looks  round  him.  As  he  does  so,  the  tears  roll  down 
his  cheeks,  in  the  fulness  of  his  joy. 

Let  us  leave  our  old  friend  in  one  of  those  moments  of 
unmixed  happiness,  of  which,  if  we  seek  them,  there  are  ever 
some,  to  cheer  our  transitory  existence  here.  There  are  dark 
shadows  on  the  earth,  but  its  lights  are  stronger  in  the 
contrast.  Some  men,  like  bats  or  owls,  have  better  eyes  for 
the  darkness  than  for  the  light.  We,  who  have  no  such 
optical  powers,  are  better  pleased  to  take  our  last  parting 


SUMMING  UP.  475 

look  at  the  visionary  companions  of  many  solitary  hours, 
when  the  brief  sunshine  of  the  world  is  blazing  full  upon 
them. 

It  is  the  fate  of  most  men  who  mingle  with  the  world, 
and  attain  even  the  prime  of  life,  to  make  many  real  friends, 
and  lose  them  in  the  course  of  nature.  It  is  the  fate  of  all 
authors  or  chroniclers  to  create  imaginary  friends,  and  lose 
them  in  the  course  of  art.  Nor  is  this  the  full  extent  of 
their  misfortunes ;  for  they  are  required  to  furnish  an  account 
of  them  besides. 

In  compliance  with  this  custom — unquestionably  a  bad 
one — we  subjoin  a  few  biographical  words,  in  relation  to  the 
party  at  Mr.  Pickwick's  assembled. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winkle,  being  fully  received  into  favour  by 
the  old  gentleman,  were  shortly  afterwards  installed  in  a 
newly-built  house,  not  half  a  mile  from  Mr.  Pickwick's.  Mr. 
Winkle,  being  engaged  in  the  City  as  agent  or  town  corre- 
spondent of  his  father,  exchanged  his  old  costume  for  the 
ordinary  dress  of  Englishmen,  and  presented  all  the  external 
appearance  of  a  civilised  Christian  ever  afterwards. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Snodgrass  settled  at  Dingley  Dell,  where 
they  purchased  and  cultivated  a  small  farm,  more  for  occupa- 
tion than  profit.  Mr.  Snodgrass,  being  occasionally  abstracted 
and  melancholy,  is  to  this  day  reputed  a  great  poet  among 
his  friends  and  acquaintance,  although  we  do  not  find  that 
he  has  ever  written  anything  to  encourage  the  belief.  There 
are  many  celebrated  characters,  literary,  philosophical,  and 
otherwise,  who  hold  a  high  reputation  on  a  similar  tenure. 

Mr.  Tupman,  when  his  friends  married,  and  Mr.  Pickwick 
settled,  took  lodgings  at  Richmond,  where  he  has  ever  since 
resided.  He  walks  constantly  on  the  Terrace  during  the 
summer  months,  with  a  youthful  and  jaunty  air  which  has 
rendered  him  the  admiration  of  the  numerous  elderly  ladies 
of  single  condition,  who  reside  in  the  vicinity.  He  has  never 
proposed  again. 


476  THE  PICKWICK  CLUB. 

Mr.  Bob  Sawyer,  having  previously  passed  through  the 
Gazette,  passed  over  to  Bengal,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Benjamin 
Allen ;  both  gentlemen  having  received  surgical  appointments 
from  the  East  India  Company.  They  each  had  the  yellow 
fever  fourteen  times,  and  then  resolved  to  try  a  little  absti- 
nence; since  which  period,  they  have  been  doing  well. 

Mrs.  Bardell  let  lodgings  to  many  conversable  single  gentle- 
men, with  great  profit,  but  never  brought  any  more  actions 
for  breach  of  promise  of  marriage.  Her  attorneys,  Messrs. 
Dodson  and  Fogg,  continue  in  business,  from  which  they 
realise  a  large  income,  and  in  which  they  are  universally  con- 
sidered among  the  sharpest  of  the  sharp. 

Sam  Weller  kept  his  word,  and  remained  unmarried,  for 
two  years.  The  old  housekeeper  dying  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  Mr.  Pickwick  promoted  Mary  to  the  situation,  on 
condition  of  her  marrying  Mr.  Weller  at  once,  which  she  did 
without  a  murmur.  From  the  circumstance  of  two  sturdy 
little  boys  having  been  repeatedly  seen  at  the  gate  of  the 
back  garden,  there  is  reason  to  suppose  that  Sam  has  some 
family. 

The  elder  Mr.  Weller  drove  a  coach  for  twelve  months,  but 
being  afflicted  with  the  gout,  was  compelled  to  retire.  The 
contents  of  the  pocket-book  had  been  so  well  invested  for 
him,  however,  by  Mr.  Pickwick,  that  he  had  a  handsome 
independence  to  retire  on,  upon  which  he  still  lives  at  an 
excellent  public-house  near  Shooter's  Hill,  where  he  is  quite 
reverenced  as  an  oracle :  boasting  very  much  of  his  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Pickwick,  and  retaining  a  most  unconquerable 
aversion  to  widows. 

Mr.  Pickwick  himself  continued  to  reside  in  his  new  house, 
employing  his  leisure  hours  in  arranging  the  memoranda 
which  he  afterwards  presented  to  the  secretary  of  the  once 
famous  club,  or  in  hearing  Sam  Weller  read  aloud,  with  such 
remarks  as  suggested  themselves  to  his  mind,  which  never 
failed  to  afford  Mr.  Pickwick  great  amusement.  He  was 
much  troubled  at  first,  by  the  numerous  applications  made 


SUMMING  UP.  477 

to  him  by  Mr.  Snodgrass,  Mr.  Winkle,  and  Mr.  Trundle,  to 
act  as  godfather  to  their  offspring;  but  he  has  become  used 
to  it  now,  and  officiates  as  a  matter  of  course.  He  never 
had  occasion  to  regret  his  bounty  to  Mr.  Jingle ;  for  both 
that  person  and  Job  Trotter  became,  in  time,  worthy  members 
of  society,  although  they  have  always  steadily  objected  to 
return  to  the  scenes  of  their  old  haunts  and  temptations. 
Mr.  Pickwick  is  somewhat  infirm  now ;  but  he  retains  all  his 
former  juvenility  of  spirit,  and  may  still  be  frequently  seen, 
contemplating  the  pictures  in  the  Dulwich  Gallery,  or  enjoy- 
ing a  walk  about  the  pleasant  neighbourhood  on  a  fine  day. 
He  is  known  by  all  the  poor  people  about,  who  never  fail  to 
take  their  hats  off,  as  he  passes,  with  great  respect.  The 
children  idolise  him,  and  so  indeed  does  the  whole  neighbour- 
hood. Every  year,  he  repairs  to  a  large  family  merry-making 
at  Mr.  Wardle's;  on  this,  as  on  all  other  occasions,  he  is 
invariably  attended  by  the  faithful  Sam,  between  whom  and 
his  master  there  exists  a  steady  and  reciprocal  attachment 
which  nothing  but  death  will  terminate. 


NOTES   ON   PICKWICK. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Laut  Street. 

In  that  street,  in  the  back  attic  of  a  house  occupied  by  "  an  Insolvent 
Court  agent,"  Dickens  lodged,  in  the  second  period  of  his  employment 
in  the  blacking  warehouse. 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

"  My  Prooshan  Blue." 

This  term  of  endearment  has  greatly  engaged  the  attention  of  scholiasts. 
Mr.  Dickens  himself,  according  to  Sir  Walter  Besant,  was  unable  to 
explain  a  phrase  which  he  may  "have  heard  in  a  crowd."  I  would 
diffidently  observe  that,  in  1829,  Lockhart  wrote  to  Scott  to  the  follow- 
ing effect  : — 

"  The  King  "  (George  IV.)  "  is  dreaming  of  dressing  the  Guards,  and 
afterwards  all  the  infantry,  in  blue.  This  is  the  Duke  of  Cumberland's 
Prussian  nonsense." 

Rumours  of  His  Majesty's  intentions  may  have  reached  the  public, 
and  given  rise  to  the  phrase,  "  My  Prooshan  Blue."  Or,  like  the  effigy 
of  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  it  may  have  survived  from  the  days  of  our 
ally,  the  Protestant  hero.  I  only,  in  the  phrase  of  Calverley's  Examina- 
tion Paper,  "  hazard  a  conjecture  explanatory  of  the  expression." 

A  writer  in  The  World  offers  another  theory  of  "Prooshan  Blue  :  " 

"The  following  explanation,  a  simple  one,  was  given  to  the  late  Mr. 
Charles  Dickens,  but  not  in  time  for  his  Jubilee  edition  of  Pickwick. 
When  Blucher  and  his  staff  appeared  in  London  after  Waterloo,  the  mob 
dubbed  them  the  '  Prooshian  Blues '  (Proosia  and  Roosia  being  the  pro- 
nunciation of  the  period)  on  account  of  their  unfamiliar  uniform.  The 
colour,  adopted  here,  was  long  known  as  Prussian  blue,  subsequently  as 
4  royal '  blue,  and  after  a  long  eclipse  is  now  again  fashionable.  '  He's 
a  regular  Prooshian  Blue,'  the  equivalent  of  'brick'  or  'trump,'  was 
a  familiar  phrase  up  to  a  later  period  than  that  of  Dickens's  childhood." 

"  The  Prof  eel  Machine." 

Doubtless  that  by  which  silhouettes  were  taken,  not  in  "  bright 
colours."  The  machine  is  illustrated  in  The  Strand,  November,  1896. 

"Tipcheese." 

Probably  Tip-cat  was  meant ;  the  game  at  which  Bunyan  was  dis- 
tinguishing himself  when  he  "had  a  call." 


480  NOTES  ON  PICKWICK. 

CHAPTER  XXXVIIT. 

"Fanteegs." 

Any  explanation  or  etymology  of  this  obscure  word  must  be  con- 
jectural. 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

The  Fleet  Prison. 

Imprisonment  for  debt  is  now  disguised  as  imprisonment  for  contempt 
of  court.     The  once  famous  Countess  with  the  Cats  endured  this  incar- 


f court.     The  once  famous  Countess 

says 

was  the  original  of  one  of 


ceration,    on   Pickwickian   principles,    says   Mr.  Charles   Dickens   the 
younger.     This  lady,  it  is  said,  in  her  youth 
Thackeray's  most  notable  characters. 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

A  red-faced  Nixon. 

Nixon  is  said  to  have  been  a  Cheshire  prophet.  His  date  and  even 
existence  are  dubious. 

Nixon's  prophecies,  like  those  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer,  seem  to  have 
been  in  demand  during  the  Rising  of  1745.  In  a  curious  Whig  tract, 
undated,  but  clearly  of  1745,  called  "Observations  on  the  Persons  of 
Note  now  engaged  in  the  Chevalier's  Service  in  Scotland,"  we  find  "  the 
Hon.  William  Murray  "  accused  of  studying  Nixon,  and  his  predictions 
about  "The  Miller  with  Three  Thumbs,"  under  the  tuition  of  an 
old  woman.  A  dark  saying  about  a  stone  in  a  wood  is  explained  as 
referring  to  the  restoration  of  the  Catholic  Church,  "or  something  of 
that  sort."  Apparently  a  Murray  of  the  Elibank  family  is  the  person 
referred  to,  unless  there  is  a  confusion  with  John  Murray  of  Broughton. 
Otherwise  Nixon  was  not  much  regarded  in  Scotland,  which  was  rich  in 
prophets  of  her  own.  A  note  in  the  Stuart  Papers,  by  Prince  Charles, 
shows  him  a  student  of  Nixon.  See  also  Mr.  Ashton's  "  Chapbooks  of 
Eighteenth  Century,"  p.  92. 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

The  crumpets. 

The  story  is  told  about  muffins  by  Topham  Beauclerk  (Boswell's 
Johnson  in  Birkbeck  Hill's  edition,  iii.  384).  Croker  says  that  Mr. 
Fitzherbert  was  the  suicide,  but  it  seems  that  he  hanged  himself  ;  and, 
as  Beauclerk  was  arguing  that  two  pistols  are  useful  in  cases  of  suicide, 
and  were  used  by  the  hero  of  the  muffins,  the  case  of  Mr.  Fitzherbert 
would  not  be  in  point. 


THE   END. 


PRINTED  BY  WILLIAM  CLOWES    AND  SONS,  LIMITED,  LONDON  AND   BECC.LES. 


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